


To See The Human Soul Take Wing

by Maeglin_Yedi



Series: The Wolf Series [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bestiality, Drama, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Other, Romance, Threesome - M/M/M, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 227,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeglin_Yedi/pseuds/Maeglin_Yedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's final year at Hogwarts is filled with secrets, old enemies and new threats. Unable to share his current life with his friends, Harry has to put his faith in the unlikeliest of allies to find a way to defeat Voldemort while his love for Sirius and Remus is repeatedly put to the test. </p>
<p>Sequel to Of Wolf and Man. Not compliant with HBP and DH (written and first published in 2004)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Harry/Remus/Sirius, others implied  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Warnings/category: AU, threesome, bestiality, drama, angst, romance  
> Disclaimer: All characters from Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. All original characters belong to me. 
> 
> Summary: Harry's final year at Hogwarts is filled with secrets, old enemies and new threats. Unable to share his current life with his friends, Harry has to put his faith in the unlikeliest of allies to find a way to defeat Voldemort while his love for Sirius and Remus is repeatedly put to the test. 
> 
> A/N: Sequel to Of Wolf and Man and How To Teach An Old Dog New Tricks. Big thanks to Gina for the beta and to fluffyllama for Brit-picking. 
> 
> Word count: 230,000  
> First published: November 2004 - July 2005

Prologue

Harry wrung the flannel out and draped the moist, warm cloth over his face as he sank deeper into the bathtub. 

He felt as if he'd played ten Quidditch matches in a row. Every muscle and tendon and joint in his body hurt. He was sure even his bones ached. Not to mention his hair. Who knew the hair on your head could actually feel painful?

After two transformations, Harry had learned that the days before the full moon weren't so bad. During those days he mostly felt tired and a bit tense. Not to mention incredibly horny. But the days after the full moon were hell. It took his body at least four days to recover from being a werewolf, and the last full moon had been only two days ago. 

It was all a normal part of being a werewolf, Remus had assured him. It just made Harry wonder how Remus had been able to deal with it for thirty-something years, because Harry had never felt this bad in his entire life, and the idea of having to feel like this for at least four days every single month was depressing. 

At least the custom-made bath oil helped to relieve his body of some of his aches. According to Remus it was the only thing that really worked for werewolves in those days after the full moon. But apparently it was expensive, and Remus hadn't started using it until Sirius and his inherited fortune had come back into his life a few years ago.

It was no wonder the suicide rate among werewolves was so high, as Harry had read in _Lycanthropy: Facts About Werewolves_ , the book Remus had given him for his birthday. 

Not that Harry was considering suicide. But he could certainly understand it. If he didn't have the Wolfsbane potion and the custom-made bath oil and, more importantly, Sirius and Remus there with him every step of the way, Harry could imagine himself just giving up one day, to be rid of the curse.

"All ready for your big day?" Sirius' voice sounded far too cheerful for this time of the morning. Harry raised one end of the flannel and gave his godfather a one-eyed glare. 

"Come on, you're going back to Hogwarts. You must be excited."

"I'm mostly just tired, Sirius," Harry whispered, pulling the flannel off his face. "And it's all your fault."

Sirius looked shocked, as if he'd conveniently forgotten that he'd pounded Harry into the mattress while Harry'd eagerly sucked Remus' cock not even an hour ago. Not that Harry was complaining. And judging by Sirius' crooked grin, Harry suspected Sirius knew as much. 

Remus pushed past Sirius and stepped into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. "I can't leave you two alone for one minute and you're already bickering," he chided mildly. 

Giving Remus a smile, Harry studied Remus' face, and imagined he must look just like that. Well, perhaps with a few less lines in his face and without the grey hair, but he was sure his skin looked just as pale and he was sporting identical dark patches beneath his eyes. 

While Remus took off his robes, Sirius pulled up the small, wooden stool and sat down beside the tub, one elbow resting on the porcelain edge. 

"Move over, Harry, if you will. I could use a quick soak."

Harry leaned forward and Remus lowered himself in the tub behind Harry, stretching his legs out on either side of Harry's body. Harry leaned back against Remus' chest, releasing a contented sigh. Water sloshed over the side of the tub, which earned them a grumble from Sirius about wet robes on men who preferred to stay dry. 

"Did Moody and Tonks get here already?" Harry asked, running his fingers across the arm Remus wrapped around his waist. 

"Yep," Sirius said, leaning his chin on his hand. "They're in the kitchen, having a cuppa. They expect us down in half an hour. 'Course, they believe we're helping you pack."

Remus snickered, but Harry screwed his face up in a frown. "I still don't see why we can't Apparate to King's Cross. I got my license last week."

"Yes, but you haven't Apparated such a distance yet, Harry," Remus said, nuzzling Harry's damp hair. "And with only two days since the last full moon, it would require too much energy."

"Besides, you did get yourself splinched," Sirius offered helpfully. 

"Oh, just once!" Harry did remember leaving his feet in the attic while the rest of him was downstairs in the kitchen when he'd been practicing under Remus' careful attention. It had been a very uncomfortable experience. 

Sirius grinned and lowered his hand into the water, tracing a finger over Harry's flaccid prick. "My point exactly. You wouldn't want poor Moony and me running all over London looking for this lovely cock, now would you?"

Harry wanted to give a snippy reply, but Sirius' fingers touching his cock combined with the feeling of Remus' warm body against his own was distracting.

"Could you please not stop doing that?" he whispered, his cock rising to full attention under Sirius' teasing touch. 

"And what's in it for me?" Sirius asked, his voice a low whisper.

"You get to watch me come," Harry said cheekily. Sirius let out a bark of laughter while Remus chuckled. "And possibly Remus as well," Harry added, wriggling his arse against Remus' hardening prick. 

"And what about poor old me?" Sirius pushed his bottom lip out in a pout, and Harry resisted the urge to lean over and suck it into his mouth. 

"This tub won't fit three bodies," Remus said quietly, rocking his hips against Harry. 

"Pah. I'm the master of Transfiguration." Sirius stood up and pulled out his wand. 

Harry tried not to flinch when Sirius pointed his wand at the tub. He wondered if he should point out to Sirius that his last Transfiguration project hadn't been a complete success. Sirius had insisted on transfiguring their bed into a larger one, so the three of them would have enough room to sleep comfortably together. The transfigured bed had looked fine, but when they were in the middle of their first round of sex on it, the legs had snapped in half and the bottom fell to the floor. 

Apparently, Sirius had forgotten that incident. He flicked his wand. The tub expanded and kept expanding, scooping Sirius up so he fell face first into the water, right on top of Harry's legs. 

"Ow!" Harry winced, and Sirius, his face wet and his robes soaked, grinned up at him proudly. 

"Sirius, you utter prick," Remus snapped in genuine annoyance, slapping Sirius' head. 

A brief, indignant look crossed Sirius' face but it transformed into a caring, almost worried expression. He pushed himself off Harry's legs, smiling apologetically. 

"Sorry. You okay?"

Harry was lost in that foreign expression on Sirius' face. He knew Sirius cared about him, loved him, but those feelings were usually disguised with mischievous humour or hot sex. Harry felt his heart pound and his sac tingle just because Sirius looked at him like _that_. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just sore," he mumbled. 

Sirius pressed a kiss to Harry's lips and raised himself up on his knees. Now that the tub was wider, Sirius had enough room to worm himself out of his wet robes. When he was naked, he gave both Harry and Remus an expectant look, showing off his wet body and proud cock. 

"You are so full of yourself," Remus said. Harry could hear the grin in Remus' voice. 

"I'd rather be full with one of you," Sirius replied, raising a suggestive eyebrow. 

"You are talking to two recently transformed werewolves, Padfoot, who had sex with you only an hour ago. If you're expecting a wild shag, you should definitely think again."

Harry had to agree with Remus on that one, and even though Sirius sniffed in silent protest, he could see understanding in Sirius' eyes. 

"But it would be such a shame to let this go to waste." Sirius tapped his finger against the head of Harry's hard cock, which poked up through the surface of the water.

Remus' hand crept down Harry's stomach and grabbed his cock, giving it a slow, teasing stroke.

Between Remus' torturous touch and Sirius' feral grin, Harry felt overwhelmed, like he always did when both his lovers focused on him. They had been in a relationship now for well over a month and they'd spent a lot of their time together shagging, but Harry still felt like a virgin when Remus and Sirius came after him like that. And he loved every second of it.

"It would most certainly be a waste," Remus said and licked the side of Harry's throat, grinding his erection against Harry's lower back. 

"We'll just have to make good use of it, then." Sirius urged Harry to spread his legs and lowered himself between them, aligning his hard prick with Harry's, but careful not to put his full weight on Harry's sore body. 

"Fuck," Harry breathed. Sirius shot him a grin and reached for their cocks, wrapping his hand around both, squeezing them together. Then he leaned in as if to kiss Harry, but changed his direction at the last second, and darted his tongue out. Remus stroked Sirius' tongue with his own, only an inch away from Harry's face. Harry could do nothing but stare and let his lovers use him and pleasure him. 

"You love it, don't you, Harry," Sirius breathed. Remus attacked Harry's throat, biting it gently. "You love to feel both our cocks. I bet you're wishing now that you could let us fuck you. Let both of us fuck that tight arse of yours."

Harry let his head fall back against Remus' shoulder, his mouth half-open as a groan passed his lips. Sirius caught Harry's mouth in a searing kiss, pushing his tongue inside and demanding Harry meet it with his own. 

Their movements were lazy, Remus pushing against Harry's back and Sirius stroking and thrusting against Harry's cock. As much as Harry loved their wild, hard shags, this felt brilliant as well. The warm water and the feeling of hot bodies around him gave Harry a sense of security that allowed him to let go, to surrender to his lovers, to let them take him because he wanted them to. Because he trusted them. 

When Harry's climax hit him, it was intense and consuming, and he gasped into Sirius' mouth, feeling Sirius smile against his lips.

Harry shuddered between their bodies, letting Sirius' and Remus' thrusts prolong his orgasm. Then Remus groaned against Harry's throat, and Harry felt Remus' body tense and hot seed spurt against his back before it was lost in the water around them. Sirius pulled back from Harry's mouth and stared at the both of them, his eyes narrowed and his nose wrinkled, still thrusting slowly against Harry. He came with a sharp intake of breath, rocking his hips and squeezing his cock until he'd shot the last of his semen onto Harry's chest.

"That was..." Harry trailed off, licking his lips while he ran a finger through the come on his skin. 

"Good," Remus finished for him. 

"Very," Sirius agreed. He turned to lie back against Harry, but gave him a questioning look first. 

"It's okay," Harry said, and wrapped his arms around Sirius as Sirius lay back against Harry's chest. 

They stayed silent for a while, just enjoying the comfort of sharing a warm bath after good sex. Harry had his face half-buried in Remus' throat and raked his fingers through Sirius' long, wet hair, massaging his scalp every now and then while Sirius softly stroked Harry's thighs.

It all felt perfect. And for the first time in his life, Harry really didn't want to go back to Hogwarts. There would be secrets and hiding and a lot of trouble if the wrong people found out about his condition. And, for the first time ever, Harry had something good that he was forced to leave behind. 

Remus broke the silence. "Did you decide yet if you're going to tell your friends?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Sirius asked, turning so he could look at Remus over Harry's shoulder. 

"Sirius, I believe Harry can answer for himself."

Harry snickered and playfully swatted Sirius' head. Sirius grumbled but lowered himself against Harry again without further protest. 

During the last few weeks, Harry had given that subject a lot of thought. His first reaction had been to tell his friends. They were his friends after all, and he'd always shared everything with them. But the more he thought about it, the more he began to see the dangers. If his secret did come out, it would have grave consequences. Sirius was still a wanted criminal and thus was in no position to protect either one of them, and Remus would be sentenced to death if the Ministry discovered he'd infected another human being. 

"I don't think I'll tell them," Harry said, a thoughtful frown tugging on his brow. "There are too many risks. And I don't want to lose either of you."

Sirius looked at Harry, surprised, but Remus hummed in agreement. "It seems your pack instincts are kicking in, young wolf."

"Huh?" Harry turned his head so he could look at Remus. 

"The werewolf part of you has rather strong urges to protect its pack," Remus explained. 

"My wolf is giving me instincts?"

Remus chuckled. "No, humans have basic pack instincts, to keep their loved ones safe. The infection just brings those instincts out. They are your own, Harry. The wolf only makes you more aware of them."

"Oh. But I've only been thinking like this since the last two weeks or so."

"That's to be expected. It always takes a transformation before the werewolf finds its place in your mind and body. Before your body adapts to the intruder inside you."

"Yeah, I remember reading that," Harry said. He also remembered running a high fever for two days after his first transformation. Sirius had fussed over him like a mother hen, but Remus had assured them both that it was just Harry's body reacting to the invasion of the wolf now that the cycle had been completed. 

And Harry had felt differently after that first transformation. The strange urges and headaches he'd had during those weeks after the infection were gone and he felt as if he had a better handle on his sexual urges. And those urges were caused by his own body, Harry had learned while reading his book on werewolves. His body produced large amounts of testosterone in its fight against the infection. It was a natural reaction, trigged by specific elements of the lycanthropic infection, and one of the side effects was that it gave the person a very high sex drive. 

But Harry had his two lovers to take care of that. Well, he'd had them during the summer. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to deal with it at Hogwarts now that he'd got used to daily sex. Lots of wanking, he imagined sourly. 

"Yeah, it's probably safer if you don't tell them," Sirius finally agreed, albeit grudgingly. "And it's just for a year."

"And you'll still have us," Remus said, kissing Harry's temple. "Dumbledore adjusted the Apparation wards on the Shack, so we can meet you there whenever you need us."

"Or whenever we need you," Sirius said, giving Remus a cheeky smile. "I imagine that after having tasted this lush young body all summer, it will be rather boring going back to that old sack of bones."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time you beg me for a shag, Padfoot."

Harry snickered and gave his lovers a mock glare. "It's not fair that you two get to shag every day and I'll be stuck wanking."

"We promise to be completely celibate while you're away, Harry," Sirius said. Remus looked at him in shock. "Well, maybe not completely," Sirius added as an afterthought. 

"I'm going to miss you two," Harry said in a sudden burst of honesty. "Not just the shagging, you know."

"We know," Remus said, and Sirius turned himself around, enveloping both Harry and Remus in a tight hug. Harry ignored his protesting muscles, because he wanted to feel Sirius holding him as if he would never let go. 

"We're going to miss you, too," Sirius whispered, and kissed first Harry and then Remus.

"You'll be fine," Remus assured him. "Before you know it, it'll be Christmas and you'll be back here with us. We'll meet you in the Shack and you'll see me at least once a week during your lessons with Snape."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, swallowing against the odd lump in his throat.

"We should probably get up," Remus said, and Harry groaned in protest. 

"I rather like it here, Moony," Sirius said, making no move to get up. "This bath goo feels quite good." 

"I should hope so. You're paying thirty-five Galleons a bottle for it."

"Then we'd best make the most of it." Sirius relaxed a bit more against Harry, pressing a kiss to Harry's throat.

"Fine. Then we'll just wait until Moody storms through that door, convinced we've all been kidnapped by Death Eaters."

"Um...maybe we should get up," Harry offered, suddenly feeling nervous. They had agreed to keep their relationship quiet, at least until Harry finished Hogwarts. And Harry had every intention of keeping it that way, especially from people as paranoid as Moody. 

"All right," Sirius sighed, and pushed himself up. He offered Harry a hand and pulled him up as well. Remus crawled out on his own, and they went about drying and shaving and brushing their teeth. All the while Harry tried not to think that this would be his last time doing these comfortable things with Sirius and Remus. Christmas seemed an eternity away. 

They got dressed and Harry checked to see if he'd packed everything. Sirius and Remus had helped him load his trunk last night, and Harry concluded that everything was set to go. 

"Come here," Sirius said and pulled Harry into a tight hug. Harry returned it, burying his face in the crook of Sirius' neck. "Now, if you need anything, Harry, use the mirror."

Harry nodded. He knew he would use the mirror. It had saved his life last year, after all, when he'd used it to alert Sirius that Uncle Vernon was trying to set him up. And if he'd used it at the end of his fifth year instead of rushing off because he feared Sirius was in danger, it would have saved them a lot of trouble. Merlin, if Remus hadn't been there to pull Sirius back when he...

Harry tightened his arms around Sirius' neck. "I'll use it. I used it last year, didn't I?"

"A good thing you did," Sirius whispered. "And if there's anything you need and you can't reach us, you go to Dumbledore, understand?"

"Yes," Harry sighed. He wanted to protest, but he knew Sirius was right. It would be different this year. He had a big secret to keep. "You be careful as well, Sirius."

"I've got Moony here to keep me out of trouble. Don't worry about me, Harry. Look after yourself." Sirius gave Harry a kiss, and then another, and another, and finally let him go. 

Harry turned to Remus, who pulled him into a hug. "If you have any questions, Harry, I'm there for you. Day and night."

"Thanks," Harry said, inhaling Remus' scent. It comforted him and he suspected it had something to do with their rather unique bond.

"You'll be fine," Remus assured him once again, and gave him a soft kiss. "I'll be at Hogwarts next week."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, releasing Remus. They had all agreed it would be a good idea for Remus to be at Harry's Legilimency lessons, since Remus had much more experience with being a werewolf, and Harry had to learn how to use Legilimency in both human and wolf form. 

Sirius slung his arm around Harry's shoulders and led him out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Remus shrank Harry's trunk and put it away in his cloak. 

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said. Her disguise for that day was one of a middle-aged woman with a round face and short, blond hair. "I was about to think you didn't want to go back to Hogwarts."

Harry managed a weak smile. 

"We'd best be off," Moody grunted, adjusting his bowler hat. "It's a long walk and that train won't wait for anyone."

"Be good, Harry," Sirius said, and gave him a very godfatherly hug. Harry resisted the urge to kiss him and smiled instead.

Remus put his hand on Harry's shoulder and, with one final look at Sirius, Harry stepped through the door, Tonks and Moody leading the way.


	2. Chapter 1

By the time they arrived at King's Cross, Harry felt exhausted. He'd made that walk twice before, in his fifth and sixth year, and it had never been a problem until now. It was scary to think how much the infection wrecked his body. 

Harry glanced up at Remus and received a sympathetic smile. 

"I advise taking a nice long bath this evening," Remus said softly. Harry nodded; he was planning on doing exactly that. "Do you have that bottle of bath oil?"

"Yeah. Checked it before we left."

"And eat some chocolate when you're on the train. Do you have any money for the snack trolley?"

"Sirius gave me a small fortune," Harry said with a grin. "I think he's trying to make up for seventeen years' worth of missed allowances."

Remus snickered. "Yes, he can be a bit overcompensating like that."

They reached the barrier and Tonks went through first. Moody gestured wildly for them to go next, saying he would hold the rear. Harry took a deep breath and stepped through the barrier, to find himself suddenly surrounded by ecstatic children and worried parents. The noise was deafening, somehow, and Harry wondered if that was part of the infection as well. 

"The wolf doesn't like loud noises or crowded places," Remus whispered in his ear. "Just try to ignore those feelings. You'll get used to them."

Harry nodded, but kept quiet. He didn't want to risk being overheard while they manoeuvred themselves through the mass of people. 

"Harry! Over here!"

Looking around, Harry located Ron, who was waving at them. He smiled and walked over to him and the rest of his family. 

But before Harry could greet Ron properly, Mrs Weasley let out a shriek. 

"Dear Merlin!" She grabbed Harry's shoulder and looked him over a few times, shaking her head in disbelief. "What has that godfather of yours been doing with you all summer? He's not been feeding you, that's for sure. You're skin over bones, Harry, and far too pale."

Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, Harry tried very hard not to snap at Mrs Weasley for insulting Sirius. It would do no good to start a fight over something he couldn't explain. Harry was grateful when he felt Remus' warm hand on his arm, urging him to take a step back. 

"I can assure you, Molly, that Harry's godfather has been taking very good care of him –"

Mrs Weasley huffed, clearly not impressed with Remus' defence of Sirius. 

"And you mustn't forget that Harry's been ill for part of the summer, and he's had a growth spurt."

Which was true. Standing up, Harry could now touch Sirius' chin with the tip of his nose, and even press a kiss on Remus' chin. He'd grown a good inch and a half over the summer. Finally.

"Molly," Mr Weasley started, but was cut off by his wife immediately. 

"Well, look at him, Arthur! I told Dumbledore not to leave Harry with that irresponsible man."

"I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't insult the one man who's ever taken proper care of me," Harry snarled, feeling a surge of protective rage over Sirius. "You have no idea what has happened to any of us over the summer. Not that it's any of your business. All you need to know is that he's my godfather and my family."

Pack, a strange voice in the back of his mind corrected him. Pack, Harry confirmed to himself. Sirius and Remus were his family, his pack, and he wouldn't let anyone hurt them in any way. He'd kept quiet long enough. No more. 

"I believe it's about time to board the train," Remus said lightly. "Harry, can I have one last word?"

Harry nodded, finding it hard to take his eyes off Mrs Weasley, who looked completely shell-shocked.

"You have to control those feelings, Harry," Remus whispered, gripping both of Harry's arms. "I know she was being unfair and I know how protective you feel over Sirius. I feel that way, as well. But you have to control it."

"I know," Harry said, the anger washing away now that he was looking into Remus' eyes. "I just...I wanted to _hurt_ her for saying those things. I couldn't stand it."

Remus looked around and pulled Harry into a quick hug. "I know it's hard. I know those feelings are strong. But if you don't try to control them, they will cause you a lot of trouble. Possibly serious trouble."

Nodding, Harry buried his face against Remus' cloak. He came very close to asking Remus if he could please go back home with him, but he knew it wasn't an option. He had to finish school. He just felt completely miserable about it and he hated feeling that way.

"Remember, Harry. Day and night." Remus released him, smiling. "Now go to your friends. And don't forget to eat some chocolate on the train."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, reluctant to release Remus' cloak, but he forced himself to let go. 

Remus took out Harry's trunk and engorged it with a flick of his wand. "Here you go. I'll see you next week."

"See you then," Harry said, grabbing the handle of his trunk. He gave Remus one last smile and turned towards where Ron, Luna, Ginny and Neville were standing. 

"Sorry about that, mate," Ron said with a nod towards his mum when Harry joined them. Mrs Weasley seemed in a deep discussion with her husband, waving her arms about frantically while Mr Weasley tried to catch them. 

"I didn't mean to get angry." Harry sighed. "I just don't want anyone to talk about Si—Snuffles like that."

"It's okay." Ron shrugged, and then slapped Harry on his shoulder. "Good to see you again."

"Yeah, glad to be here," Harry lied. He was happy to see his best friend again. He just wasn't too keen on the circumstances.

"Hey Luna, Ginny, Neville." Harry raised his hand in greeting. Luna smiled dreamily at him, standing close to Ron. And Ginny and Neville were standing quite close to each other, as well. When Harry looked down he noticed they were holding hands. 

"Oh. You two?"

Blushing, Neville glanced down, but Ginny smiled. "Yeah. Us." 

"Great," Harry said. He was happy for them, especially for Neville. He'd seen his share of misery that summer, with losing his grandmother, so Harry thought he deserved a bit of happiness.

"Let's find a place to sit on the train." Ron boarded the train, and Harry let the rest follow him before climbing on board himself. They shuffled through the narrow corridors until Ginny found an empty compartment. 

After they settled in, Ron sitting close to Luna on one seat and Harry sitting a respectable distance away from Ginny and Neville on the other, Ron perked up and gave Harry a wide grin. 

"I've got news for you."

"Oh, yeah?"

"I know who the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor will be." Ron beamed and Ginny giggled. 

"Who?" Harry asked, feeling genuinely interested. 

"Professor Bill Weasley."

"Bill?" Harry stopped his mouth from dropping open just in time. 

"Yeah. Cool, eh?" Ron's grin was so wide, Harry was sure it had to hurt. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed. Bill was cool. Bill as a teacher would surely be cool, as well. Plus, Bill had plenty of knowledge on the subject. The idea of having a competent Defence Against the Dark Arts professor lifted Harry's spirits a bit. 

"How did that happen, though? I thought he was still working at Gringotts?"

"Long story," Ron sighed. "He broke up with Fleur at the start of the summer, and since she works there as well, he quit his job. Mum went nuts. Of course, after Dumbledore offered Bill this position, Mum suddenly forgot all about it." Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry snickered. 

"She was horrible," Ginny chimed in. "First she wouldn't talk to him, and then she wouldn't stop talking to him."

"Or stop talking about him," Ron sighed. 

"I think he'll be a great teacher," Neville said. Everyone hummed their agreement. 

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, suddenly realizing his other best friend wasn't there. 

"She was on the platform earlier, but she had to do Head Girl things." Ron rolled his eyes again. 

"So she made Head Girl?"

"Yeah. Didn't Dumbledore tell you anything?" Ron looked worried. 

Harry bit his lip, realizing that while Dumbledore hadn't told him anything, he hadn't asked the headmaster anything, either. And the correspondence with his friends had been irregular during the summer, since Harry hadn't been able to use Hedwig and was dependent on Dumbledore's few visits to hear from his friends. Furthermore, he'd been so busy with Sirius and Remus that he hadn't missed it much, either. 

"He wouldn't say much. Thought it was too dangerous," Harry finally said, and Ron seemed to accept that answer. 

As the train started moving and pulled out of the station, they changed the subject and talked about their holidays. Ron and Ginny took the lead in telling Harry what had happened at the Burrow, occasionally helped by a few words from Neville. Luna had spent the first part of the summer on an expedition with her father and the last few weeks at the Burrow with Ron. And then it was Harry's turn, and he told them about living with Sirius and Moony, managing to change Moony back, and having both Sirius and Remus around, helping him with his homework and teaching him how to Apparate. Of course, he left out any details about his own infection or his intimate relationship with his godfather and his gay lover. 

Then the snack trolley arrived and Harry bought an obscene amount of Chocolate Frogs, as well as a couple of large bars of chocolate. He figured he'd best keep a stock of it at Hogwarts, to help him through those days after the full moon, since he had no idea when the first Hogsmeade weekend would be. 

All it did was earn him a raised eyebrow from Ron and a remark from Ginny that Professor Lupin must have given him a sweet tooth. Harry just grinned and ate three Chocolate Frogs in a row. It made him feel slightly better, although he still felt exhausted. 

"Luna, you want to come and look for Hermione?" Ginny asked, after they finished their snacks. She pecked Neville on the cheek and got up. Luna nodded, kissed Ron soundly on his lips, and got up as well. 

"Hermione is probably off somewhere with the Head Boy," Ron said bitterly once Ginny and Luna were gone.

"Who is Head Boy?"

"Malfoy," Ron spat. 

Harry wrinkled his nose. The last thing he needed was Malfoy parading around the castle, abusing his power. He'd been bad enough as a Prefect, two years in a row. Malfoy as Head Boy would be downright horrid. Again feeling miserable, Harry reached for another Chocolate Frog. 

"I've got more news." Ron seemed over his brief foul mood and was smiling at Harry. 

Harry, again curious, looked from Ron to Neville, who looked bored. 

"I've heard it twelve times already," Neville offered and turned his head to stare out the window. 

"But Harry hasn't," Ron said. Harry nodded at him to go on. 

"I've had sex," Ron said solemnly. 

Harry swallowed. So have I, he wanted to say. He had a sudden urge to share that with his friends, to tell them how amazing having sex with Sirius and Remus was, and how good and safe and loved they made him feel, and how much he missed them already. But he couldn't. 

"Great," Harry said, biting back the disappointment that threatened to taint his voice. "How was it?"

"Brilliant." Ron put his elbows on his knees, leaning toward Harry conspiratorially. "It was a bit weird at first, 'cause it was both our first time I suppose. But we managed it, and it felt bloody brilliant."

Trying to smile for his friend's sake, Harry was suddenly overwhelmed with memories. How Moony had licked him the first time and fucked him the first time. And how, when Moony was gone, Harry had fucked Remus for the first time while Sirius fucked him. Those images made his chest ache and his cock harden. Harry crossed his legs quickly. 

"Mate, you'll find someone," Ron said, obviously sensing Harry's misery but not knowing the true reason for it. "I bet there are plenty of...you know...blokes like you at Hogwarts."

Harry blinked. "Blokes like me?"

"Yeah, blokes who like other blokes." Ron looked hopeful. 

"Oh. Yeah. Sure there are." Harry was slowly catching up with what Ron had said. He supposed Ron was right and that he was 'a bloke who liked other blokes'. He just hadn't given it much thought after he'd got together with Sirius and Remus. All that mattered to him was that he loved them and loved having sex with them. But given the fact that Sirius and Remus were blokes, Ron was probably right about him. 

"Don't you like girls at all anymore?" Neville asked softly, turning in his seat to look at Harry. 

"Er...I'm not sure," Harry said, confused. It wasn't really a matter of wanting either boys or girls anymore, as it had been before that summer. It was a matter of Harry wanting Sirius and Remus. But he could hardly explain that to his friends. 

"But how did you figure it out in the first place?" Ron asked. Harry saw genuine curiosity in Ron's face, as well as a dash of anxiety, and he snickered. 

"Well, you know, when you wank...you think about people," Harry said, and both Ron and Neville gave him a nod. "And you probably only think about girls. I think about boys as well when I...do that."

"What boys?" Ron blurted, a flush rising to his cheeks. 

"You know, just blokes I like."

Neville paled and Ron gasped. 

"Not either of you," Harry said when he realized why his friends were looking at him oddly. Neville seemed to relax but Ron still looked at him suspiciously. 

"I bet you think about Seamus, though," Ron said. "He always walks around starkers."

"Yeah, well, Seamus does have a very nice cock," Harry said.

"Bloody hell." Ron buried his face in his hands. Neville just shifted in his seat. 

"Oh, come on," Harry said in bemused annoyance. "I bet you've thought about Hermione a time or two while you wank, Ron."

"Not since I'm with Luna!"

"And you must have thought about his sister before you two hooked up," Harry said, turning to Neville. 

Neville paled again and Ron snapped his gaze at him.

"You've thought about my sister?" Ron asked, apparently forgetting that Neville was seeing his sister, as well. 

"Yes...no!" Neville piped, looking panicked. 

Before Ron could respond, the door slid open and Ginny looked at them from the doorway. Harry shared a quick glance with Ron and Neville, and they all burst out in nervous laughter. 

"What's so funny?" Ginny asked. Luna and Hermione followed her inside, closing the door behind them. 

"Nothing," Ron said, trying very hard not to grin. Luna sat down beside him, while Ginny took her old seat beside Neville. Which left Hermione, who sat down opposite Harry. 

"Hi, Harry," she said, smiling at him but not meeting his eye. 

"Hey, Hermione," Harry replied, puzzled. Was Hermione angry with him? Was it because he hadn't been able to write her much during the summer? Harry frowned. He feared he might never understand women. 

"Harry," Hermione suddenly gasped, staring at his face. "You look...you look...not well."

"I'm fine." Harry waved Hermione's comment away. "Just tired. I had a busy summer. And I didn't sleep much last night."

"Ah. All right." Hermione looked at him with a calculated gaze, but she lowered it when Harry smiled at her. 

Ron and Luna started talking about some random event that had happened at the Burrow that summer, but Harry found it hard to concentrate on what they were saying. His eyelids grew heavy and he closed them, leaning his head back against the seat. Maybe if he just rested for a few minutes, he'd feel better. 

Harry found himself in a dark forest with Padfoot and Moony by his side, running and playing and howling and mating, which morphed into images of Remus sucking his cock while Sirius fucked Harry's arse with his tongue and Harry riding Remus while Sirius slid his cock inside as well and they fucked him hard and long and Harry was pressed between two warm, sweat-slick bodies and he was safe and happy and –

"Harry, wake up. We're at Hogwarts."

Rubbing his eyes and blindly searching for his glasses which must have slipped off his face, Harry blinked up at Ron. "What?" he asked. 

"You still need to put on your robes, mate."

Harry found his glasses beside him on the seat and slipped them on. Looking past Ron, he saw Neville and Ginny walk out of the compartment. 

"You should have woken me up sooner."

"Nah. You looked like you needed it." Ron gave him a smile. 

"You all go ahead," Harry said, still not feeling completely awake. "I'll catch up with you in the castle."

"Are you sure?" Luna's waiting for me, but she can go with the others if you want me to stay with you."

"I'm sure, Ron. I need to put on my robes. And wake up a bit more." 

Ron laughed and clapped Harry on the shoulder. Harry tried not to wince, but when Ron was gone he released a shaky breath. He pushed himself up, stepped outside and located his trunk. It cost him some effort to drag it back inside the compartment, but he managed it and closed the door against the sound of students leaving the train. 

Yawning, he opened it and wanted to pull out his robes, but his book on werewolves caught his eye. Sitting down again, Harry grabbed it and stroked the cover before raising it to his face. 

Besides the scent of leather and old parchment, Harry was sure he could smell Remus and, if he tried really hard, even Sirius. His chest ached again and for a moment, he was tempted to grab his mirror, which he'd wrapped safely in his robes when he'd packed it. But that would be too risky in a train full of people. Harry released a sigh and opened the heavy book in his lap, skimming through the familiar pages until he found a chapter he thought was particularly interesting. 

'Social behaviour of werewolves.'

Harry'd read it before, a few times in fact, but reading it again was comforting. It gave him a strong feeling that he wasn't alone, since the text explained that werewolves were extremely loyal to those they considered pack, and being separated from them hurt a werewolf, both in human and wolf form. 

How had Remus ever dealt with that, Harry wondered for the umpteenth time. And not so much when Remus had been in Hogwarts, because he'd had his friends, his pack there. But afterwards, when Remus had lost Harry's parents and Sirius and Peter. When he'd lost everything. 

The idea of losing Sirius and Remus and his friends at school made Harry feel sick. 

While Remus had explained a lot of general things about werewolves, he hadn't told Harry much about his personal experiences. And Harry hadn't pressed him about it, still too busy getting used to the idea himself and not wanting to offend Remus. But now Harry realized he really wanted to discuss those things with Remus, and with Sirius as well. Sirius might not be a werewolf, but he was a man who needed his friends close, that much Harry knew. And Sirius had survived twelve years without them. 

Suddenly the door slid open. "You've missed the carriages...hey, Harry!"

Gasping, Harry looked up and saw Bill Weasley smiling down at him. He tried to shut the book, but his fingers felt stiff and it dropped to the floor, falling open on a page that held a large picture of a werewolf as well as a chapter title that said: 'Sexual behaviour of werewolves'.

Harry jumped to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest. "I...I fell asleep...I need to...my robes," he stuttered and turned his back on Bill, stepping in his line of sight when he noticed Bill looking at the book curiously. 

"All right," Bill said. "You've already missed the carriages, so take your time. I was just doing a last sweep, to check for any first-years too homesick to get off the train." Harry heard Bill snicker. "Turns out there's only one seventh-year with that problem."

"I don't have a problem!" Harry bit his tongue so he wouldn't blurt anything else out. He felt miserable and anxious and his hands trembled when he replaced the book in his trunk and pulled out his robes. 

"I was only joking, Harry," Bill said. Harry shrugged and pulled his robes on over his clothes. Snapping his trunk shut, he turned to Bill. 

"I'm ready."

Bill led the way, for which Harry was grateful. While the nap had rested his mind a bit, it had only made his muscles stiff, and he stumbled more than he walked out of the train, dragging his heavy trunk behind him. 

Once they were outside, Harry pulled out his wand and cast a levitation spell on his trunk. With that extra weight gone, it was easier to walk, although he still felt exhausted. 

"So you're our new professor?" Harry asked conversationally. 

"Yeah." Bill grinned. "It's still an odd idea that I'll be teaching you lot, but I enjoy the subject, so it'll be fine, I suppose."

"I thought you liked being a curse-breaker?" Harry wondered if that would offend Bill, but Bill merely smiled at him. 

"I loved being a curse-breaker. Problem was, my work at Gringotts in London had little to do with breaking curses."

"Ron told me what happened," Harry whispered. 

Bill shrugged. "Such is life. I think I'll like this new job. Besides, it's a strategic position for the Order."

Harry nodded, and then Bill asked him about his position as the seeker on the Gryffindor house team and they chatted about Quidditch the rest of the way. 

Inside the castle, Harry left his trunk in the entrance hall for the house elves to carry up and followed Bill to the Great Hall.

When Bill pushed the doors open, it became clear they had missed the Sorting and Dumbledore's speech. The Great Hall was filled with a cacophony of noises, students talking and laughing, and Harry stopped dead in his tracks, suddenly feeling panicked. 

He was overwhelmed with the urge to flee, and he tried to remember Remus' words from earlier that day. It was his wolf playing with his instincts, that much Harry knew. Remus had told him he had to ignore those feelings and that he would get used to them. 

Harry didn't think he could ever get used to this. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he could feel gooseflesh break out over his entire body. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt the blood drain from his face. 

"Harry, you okay?" Bill put a hand on Harry's shoulder. 

"Don't touch me!" Harry snapped, pulling back from Bill's touch. Bill frowned, but didn't say another word. Harry tried to breathe, but it felt as if someone were choking him. He shifted his gaze across the Great Hall, but all he could see was a blur of faces and bodies while impossibly loud noises tortured his hearing. Until he met Dumbledore's eyes. Familiar, calming, blue eyes. 

"Ah!" Dumbledore said, standing up. "There is our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. Come in, Professor Weasley!"

While all eyes in the Great Hall focused on Bill, Harry took a deep breath and hurried towards the Gryffindor table where Ron had saved him a seat. 

"Harry. You had us worried," Hermione said, briefly looking at him but then lowering her gaze to her plate. 

"I ran into Bill and we walked to the castle together," Harry explained. He tried to tune out all the other noises and focus on his friends. This was familiar and safe, sitting here with his fellow Gryffindors.

"You'd best fill that plate soon, before the food disappears," Ron said and stuffed a large piece of chocolate cake into his mouth. 

Harry looked at the dishes and felt his stomach turn. He wasn't hungry in the slightest, but he felt the eyes of his friends on him, who would all expect him to eat something. So he loaded some peas and a slice of roast beef on his plate, but he played with it rather than ate it. 

They made small talk about classes and Quidditch, and soon, much to Harry's relief, Dumbledore announced it was time for the students to go to their dormitories. Harry'd never been happier to go to bed in Gryffindor Tower. 

While the students around him talked and laughed, Harry kept quiet and went straight up to his dormitory. Ron shot him a surprised look, but didn't say anything. 

Harry pulled a pair of pyjamas out of his trunk – and how weird was it to sleep in pyjamas again after he'd slept nude during the whole summer – and took out the mirror, as well. Stripping off his clothes, Harry decided he was too tired to take a bath, even though his body screamed in agony and he could definitely use a soak in that wonderful bath oil. 

He pulled the curtains shut around his bed and cast a silencing charm. He dreamt vividly ever since the infection and he didn't want to risk someone overhearing him talking in his sleep. Crawling under the covers, Harry tried to decide if he should use the mirror or not. He wanted to talk to Sirius and Remus, just hear their voices for a while. But he didn't want to seem too desperate, even though he knew Sirius and Remus wouldn't hold it against him. 

When his eyelids started to feel heavy, Harry pushed the mirror under his pillow along with his wand and lay down. He was at Hogwarts again. For a whole year. And he hated it already. 

A soft humming sound alerted him and Harry raised himself to see the mirror glow beneath his pillow. He pulled it out quickly and placed his hand on the glass to activate it. 

Sirius and Remus smiled at him and Harry was tempted to kiss the mirror but he thought better of it and just smiled back. 

"How was your day?" Sirius asked. Harry burrowed himself under the covers again, holding the mirror close to his face. 

"Exhausting," Harry sighed. "And bloody horrible."

Sirius gave him a sympathetic smile. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Harry muttered. "It's just different. Everything's different. I panicked when I walked into the Great Hall."

"It will get better," Remus said softly. Harry wanted to disagree with him, but he knew Remus was probably right. Besides, he was happy enough to just listen to their voices, no matter what they were saying. 

"Oh, and Bill saw my book."

"The book on werewolves?" Remus asked, glancing briefly at Sirius. 

"Yeah. On the train. I'd fallen asleep, so I was late. And when I opened my trunk I saw the book and I just read for a while. It made me feel better." Remus smiled at that and Sirius grinned. "But then Bill barged in and before I could put the book away, he saw it. He didn't say anything, though."

"Bill's part of the Order," Sirius said. "I don't think you have to worry about him, even if he should figure something out, which I doubt."

Remus nodded, and Harry found it hard to keep his eyes open. "Get some sleep, Harry. We'll be right here."

"Yeah. Miss you two." 

Harry didn't know if they gave him a reply because he drifted off, the mirror still clutched tightly in his hand.

*~*~*~*~*

When Harry woke the next morning, he immediately knew it had been a mistake to have passed on his bath the night before. His body ached. His muscles were stiff and his joints protested even the smallest movements of his limbs.

"Harry, wake up, or you'll be late for breakfast." Ron's voice sounded far too loud.

"I'm awake," Harry said, turning on his side and opening the curtains around his bed. He rolled onto something hard and when he glanced down he saw it was the mirror. It only showed his own reflection and he winced at the sight of his pale skin and the dark circles around his eyes. 

As much as Harry wanted to see Sirius and Remus or just hear their voices for a moment, he knew he didn't have time to contact them. It wasn't that he needed breakfast, since he wasn't feeling particularly hungry, but as the Quidditch captain he was expected to be there to receive the new game schedule. 

"I'm up, I'm up," Harry sighed, swinging his legs over the side. 

Ron, halfway into pulling on his trousers, stopped and stared at Harry. "You really don't look good. Are you feeling okay?"

"Fine, really. Just tired."

"Is it...you know." Ron made a vague gesture towards his forehead. 

"Hm? No, not that. Just didn't sleep well." Harry pushed himself up and gave his legs a moment to support his weight. Without looking at Ron, who was still staring at him, Harry made his way to the bathroom. 

After a quick shower, Harry pointedly didn't look in the mirror when he brushed his teeth. He needed a shave – he didn't have full beard growth yet, but there was more stubble above his mouth and around his chin than there ought to be on a school day – but he was running out of time. 

When he stepped back into his dormitory, the rest had already gone down for breakfast. He threw on his robes, didn't bother with finding socks in his trunk before stepping into his shoes, and after casting one last wistful glance at the mirror, Harry went down to the Great Hall. 

"Saved you a seat," Ron said, and Harry nodded his gratitude as he sank down beside his friend. 

Both the sight and the smell of scrambled eggs and crispy bacon made Harry's stomach turn, so he grabbed a slice of dry toast and sipped a cup of tea. The Prefects handed out the class schedules and heavy groans could be heard around the table as the students looked at them. 

Harry heaved a sigh when he saw they had Potions first thing that morning. Two hours of it, and Harry wasn't sure how he'd make it through one hundred and twenty minutes of Snape looking down at him as if he were the worst thing that ever happened to Hogwarts. 

Now that his body was weak, his mind was getting restless, and just the thought of Snape insulting him for no good reason made Harry's blood boil. He again focused on Remus' words. Control those emotions. It's the wolf playing with your instincts. It's your body producing enormous amounts of testosterone. It's a bloody curse that you'll have to learn to live with. 

That last part was Harry's own mind screaming its silent outrage in his head. 

"Mr Potter."

Harry snapped his gaze up and saw McGonagall looking down at him crisply. 

"Here is the game schedule. I trust you will pass it on to your team-mates. And I expect a training schedule on my desk no later than this Thursday so I will have ample time to book the pitch for you."

"Thanks," Harry whispered and nodded. 

"I can help with the training schedule," Ron offered. 

"No, that's all right. I'll put it together. Quicker if I do it alone." Harry didn't want to dismiss his friend, but he also didn't want to have to explain to Ron why he was planning their practices carefully around the full moon. Even Ron was bound to notice that if he helped create the schedule. 

Ron shrugged, and Harry unrolled the game schedule, his eyes searching for the most important game of the year. 

"Holy fuck."

"Mr Potter!" McGonagall, who was talking to a few third years down the table, looked at him reproachfully. "Five points from Gryffindor. Mind your language. And is there a problem with the schedule?"

Harry took a deep breath. "No, it's fine, Professor."

But it wasn't fine. It wasn't fine at all, because that year's Gryffindor versus Slytherin match was planned on the day after November's full moon. And there was no way Harry would be in any shape to play in it. 

He could already hear Malfoy's taunts about his cowardice for not showing up at that game. 

Taking another deep breath, Harry considered asking McGonagall if she couldn't reschedule. But what was he going to tell her? He couldn't give her any reason why it was absolutely necessary to find another date for it. He could try to explain the situation to the headmaster and have him interfere, but Dumbledore had already done so much for Harry that summer. He hadn't expelled Harry, he hadn't reported Remus for infecting another human being and he had even given Remus and Sirius permission to visit Harry during the school year. Harry reckoned that even Dumbledore's generosity had its limits and he didn't think it would be a good idea to push it. 

With a simple spell, Harry copied the game schedule and handed it out to his team-mates. Ron and Ginny, who had taken up a position as Chaser after Harry'd returned as the Gryffindor Seeker, chatted excitedly with Dennis Creevey and Dean Thomas – their other two Chasers. 

"Let's hope we'll have some good playing weather in November, eh?" Ron said as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower to collect their books. 

Harry only nodded. He didn't think he could talk past the tight knot of disappointment and frustration in his throat. 

They parted ways at the entrance to the tower after grabbing their books, Ron off to Muggle Studies and Harry doomed to two hours in the dungeons. 

"What's this, Potter? Off all alone, without your little Mudblood girlfriend?" Malfoy sneered at him, flanked by Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott. 

Harry had never liked Malfoy. But that morning, outside Snape's classroom, Harry felt a guttural loathing for the Slytherin, as if every cell in his body was telling him that there was something very wrong with Malfoy, and it made his skin crawl. 

"Shut up," he muttered, trying hard not to rise to Malfoy's bait. 

"Oh, witty comeback, Potter. Have you been practicing during the summer?"

Harry ignored him. It took every bit of energy he had not to reply and he felt his head spin and his hands tremble. 

"So how is Longbottom doing these days?" Malfoy asked innocently, studying his fingernails. Harry snapped his gaze up, glaring at Malfoy. "I heard he was a complete failure this summer. Turns out he isn't even competent enough to die when he's supposed to."

Harry launched himself at Malfoy, not even going for his wand but striking Malfoy with his fists. Malfoy seemed taken aback by that and lost his balance. They both toppled to the floor, Parkinson shrieking in outrage, but Harry didn't hear it. The only thing that mattered was Malfoy shutting his filthy mouth, and Harry was going to help him with it by pounding his face into a bloody pulp. 

"Potter!" A strong hand grabbed Harry's robes and pulled him off Malfoy. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a full week's detention with Mr Filch."

Harry glared up at Snape, who glared right back at him and did a much more admirable job at it. 

"What are you all still doing in the corridor?" Snape snarled. Everyone hurried inside the classroom, Malfoy rubbing his bloody lip and Harry barely managing to stay on his feet. The attack had taken a lot out of him, namely strength he didn't have to begin with. 

Avoiding Snape's narrowed gaze, Harry sank down behind a desk in the front of the classroom. Snape was talking but Harry couldn't concentrate on a word he was saying. When he saw everyone else grab their books, he followed their example and had to look at the blackboard to see which page they were supposed to be reading. Something about Healing Potions. 

Much to his credit, Snape ignored Harry most of the two hours. Even when Harry knocked over his jar of beetle eyes, Snape only glared at him, although it seemed to take him a great deal of restraint not to comment. It wasn't until Harry blew up his cauldron at the end of class that Snape exploded. 

Harry very carefully tried to add three drops of dragon bile to his cauldron, but his hands trembled too much and at least ten drops fell into the dark-blue potion. It suddenly turned white and started to bubble dangerously, and Harry just had time to look up at Snape with wide eyes before Snape pulled him away. 

"You imbecile!" Snape snarled, students leaping out of harm's way left and right when Harry's potion splashed over his desk and onto the floor. "Ten points from Gryffindor. And stay after class!"

Pulling out his wand, Harry set to cleaning the mess he had made. All the bottles and jars of ingredients, as well as his textbook and bag, were covered in thick, white goo. Whenever he looked up at the rest of the students, he saw accusing looks on the Gryffindors' faces and he heard amused snickers coming from the Slytherin corner. 

Way to go, Harry, he told himself. You managed to lose Gryffindor sixty points and earned yourself a week's detention before the end of your first class is even over. 

Snape instructed the class to bottle their potions, clean up their desks and get out of there. Most students complied eagerly, and only Hermione lingered, watching Harry with a narrowed gaze. 

"Harry, I'm not sure what has happened to you over the summer, but this behaviour has to stop," she whispered, clutching her bag to her chest as she halted near Harry's desk on her way out. 

"Hermione, not now." Harry held up a hand to cut off her reply. "Just...really not now."

"Miss Granger," Snape said, joining them at Harry's ruined desk. "I'm sure that even Mr Potter is competent enough to clean up his own mess. Get out."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said, giving Harry one last searching look before walking out, leaving Harry alone with Snape. 

Snape pulled out his wand, and with a flick the mess disappeared. Snape didn't say a word but turned on his heels and marched to one of the cabinets. Harry kept quiet as well, still feeling the unexplained rage in every cell of his body, but too baffled Snape had actually just helped him. 

"Drink this, Potter," Snape said, thrusting a small vial into Harry's hands. 

"What's this?" Harry stared at the vial, nonplussed. 

Snape rolled his eyes. "If you are unable to identify that potion by yourself, Potter, I will remove you from my Advanced Potions class this instant, no matter what the headmaster believes you are capable of."

Uncorking the small vial, Harry sniffed it. "Pepperup," he concluded and sneezed. 

"Indeed. Drink it."

Harry did and felt the potion burn his throat. It did help, some. Harry's mind felt a bit clearer and his muscles felt less stiff. "Thanks," he whispered, embarrassed. Snape yanked the empty vial out of his hand. 

"Now, I trust you will keep your condition in mind during certain days of the month while attending my class. I have no desire to keep cleaning up after you because you lack control, Potter."

"Yes, sir," Harry muttered. It was an odd experience to be agreeing with Snape, but Harry had to conclude that Snape was being civil in his own, unpleasant way, and thus Harry had no excuse to blow up in Snape's face just because he was unhappy about something he only had himself to blame for. 

"Sir?" Harry asked as politely as possible. "Pepperup seems to help a bit with my current condition. Are there other potions that can take these side effects away? Is there anything that can make me feel a bit healthier after the full moon?"

Snape sneered. "There is a reason it is called a curse, Potter, and not a minor condition. If you are unable to bear these consequences, you should have thought of that before you let that beast infect you."

Harry wanted to hit Snape, much like he had hit Malfoy earlier. But he knew if he attacked a professor, he'd be in really big trouble, so Harry grabbed his bag and, without looking back at Snape, he ran out of the room, fuming. 

He arrived late at Transfiguration, which cost him another two points. But McGonagall didn't comment any further and just waved him towards an empty seat. 

The next two hours passed uneventfully. While Harry still felt weak, he was able to transfigure his doormat into a hare without much problems. Ron's hare was still the colour of the yellow doormat and Neville's was missing ears, but most of the other students managed the transfiguration. McGonagall seemed pleased when she dismissed them, although she did tell them to read chapter two and write an essay on transfiguring one living form into another for their next class. 

During lunch, Harry ate two pieces of toast and a cup of soup, and carefully avoided any concerned questions from his friends. Ron was angry on his behalf that Snape had given him detention with Filch, and slapped Harry happily on the back when Harry told him he had hit Malfoy.

The afternoon was spent in Charms, and again Harry managed his assignments without much trouble. Flitwick beamed at the class, told them how wonderfully they had all done, and promptly assigned them an essay on Confundus Charms. 

"Potter." 

That voice was the first thing Harry heard when he left the Charms classroom, and it made his skin crawl. 

"Yes?" he said through gritted teeth as he turned to look at Filch. 

"Professor Snape told me the good news," Filch said gleefully. "Tonight, be in my office at seven. And don't be late."

"Yes, sir." Harry lowered his gaze and pushed past Filch and the other students. Ron hurried after him, closely followed by Hermione. 

"That bloody pillock," Ron muttered as they stepped outside on their way to Greenhouse Four, for their last class of that day. "He could have at least looked a bit less satisfied about it."

"And when will you do your homework, Harry?" Hermione asked. 

Harry blinked. He hadn't even thought of how he was going to do all his homework, but he wasn't going to tell Hermione that. "I'll figure something out," he mumbled. "I'll just stay up late."

"You can't stay up late all week," Hermione said. 

Ron snorted. "Then we can help him with it." When Hermione wanted to protest, Ron continued, "It's not his fault he got detention. Anyone would have smacked Malfoy for what he said."

Harry was getting a headache, and he felt very grateful when Professor Sprout entered the greenhouse and Ron and Hermione were forced to stop their bickering. 

Herbology went as well as could be expected with a throbbing headache, and after Professor Sprout gave them a reading assignment as homework, they made their way to the Great Hall for supper. 

Bill smiled at them from his seat at the High Table, and Harry managed to smile back before dropping himself in a chair. He still wasn't hungry, but he knew he'd get odd questions if he didn't eat anything, so he filled his plate and poked at his food. 

"We'll have Bill tomorrow morning," Neville said, looking excited. 

"Yeah. 'S going to be weird though, having my brother as a professor." Ron shrugged. "Still, better than anything we've had so far."

Harry snapped his gaze up. "Remus was good," he said, almost defensively.

"Professor Lupin," Hermione corrected. 

"Remus. I've got permission to call him Remus." Harry glared at Hermione, although he didn't know why. All this talk about Remus made him nervous, somehow. 

Hermione looked down, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. 

"Lupin was good," Ron agreed around a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding. 

"Lupin was great," Neville said, cutting his potatoes. "Remember Snape in my gran's dress?"

Everyone snickered at that memory and soon enough the conversation turned to Snape and how horrible he was, and Harry felt a bit more relaxed. He even managed to eat a few bites before it was time to put away his books and report for detention. 

"Right on time," Filch said as Harry stepped inside his office. "I think we'll start with the Trophy Room tonight. Follow me."

Harry dutifully walked behind Filch, wishing he could just go to bed and sleep until his miserable headache had passed. 

"Those trophies could use a good cleaning. No magic, of course, Potter. And then tomorrow, I think the restrooms on the third floor could use some work." Filch ushered Harry inside the Trophy Room and locked the door. Harry heard him laughing all the way down the corridor.

Sighing, Harry grabbed one of the cleaning rags on the shelf, picked up a silver goblet-like trophy and sat himself down on the floor. He rubbed across the metal half-heartedly, meanwhile contemplating his day. 

Looking back, it hadn't been the best of days. He'd lost Gryffindor more points than he cared to remember. Malfoy had been an utter prick, but that was nothing new. And Snape was a bastard, which also wasn't a surprise. His friends had acted worried, as was expected of them, Harry supposed. The classes hadn't been too difficult, and the only problem Harry had with them at that moment was the amount of homework his professors had given them. 

He wondered how he was supposed to do his homework when he was stuck in detention every night for a whole week. He'd told Hermione he'd stay up late, but this close to his last transformation, that really wasn't an option. 

Damn Malfoy, and damn his own stupidity for not keeping himself under control. 

Still, it had felt bloody good to hit that little ferret, Harry thought with a grin. 

A knock on the door startled Harry and his weak fingers dropped the trophy. It clattered to the floor just as the door creaked open. 

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling. "Mind if I join you?"

"No, sir," Harry said, wondering what Dumbledore wanted of him. 

"Good." Dumbledore reached for the discarded goblet and replaced it on the shelf. He picked up a cleaning rag and a different trophy and sat down on the creaky wooden chair in the corner of the small room. "I wanted to talk to you, and I would have invited you up to my office had Professor Snape not informed me you'd be occupied tonight."

"What do you want to talk about?" Harry asked, reaching for the closest trophy on the bottom shelf. He scowled when he saw it was Tom Riddle's plaque and he took a great amount of satisfaction in spitting on it before rubbing his rag over it to make it shine. 

"Your day, Harry," Dumbledore said, meticulously cleaning the trophy in his lap. "You look tired. Was your day that hard?"

Harry shrugged. "Just exhausting. But that's to be expected, I suppose."

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded, giving Harry a warm smile. "And I heard you had a bit of a disagreement with Mr Malfoy this morning. What happened?"

"He insulted Neville. I got angry with him." Harry shrugged again, keeping his gaze on the plaque. 

"You had trouble controlling your temper?"

"I suppose."

"You were always a temperamental boy," Dumbledore said, and Harry finally looked up at him. "I assume you know that your condition only worsens those feelings?"

Harry nodded. "It's hard to ignore them. I try...but it's just difficult."

"Yes, I imagine it will take you some practice. How are you feeling, Harry?"

"It's hard, being here. Alone," Harry said truthfully. 

"Without Remus, you mean?"

"Without Remus and Sirius," Harry whispered, looking away again. He didn't know if he was strong enough at that moment to close his mind to Dumbledore, and he didn't want Dumbledore to know what was going on between them. 

Dumbledore paused for a moment, stroking his beard. "Harry, I know you haven't always felt comfortable talking to me, and I'm mostly to blame for that, I admit. But I want you to know that you can always come to me if you have a problem. Do you have a problem?"

"No," Harry said, meeting Dumbledore's inquisitive gaze. "I just miss them. It's a pack thing."

"Ah, yes. You consider Remus and Sirius to be your pack," Dumbledore said, smiling once again. "Humans are social creatures, but werewolves are even more so. I've heard it can be lonely for a werewolf to be away from those he loves."

"Yeah," Harry sighed, the slow ache in his chest flaring to life again at the thought of Sirius and Remus and how they weren't with him. "I suppose that's it."

"Tell me," Dumbledore said. "I want to understand what is going on inside you, Harry."

Harry didn't want to tell Dumbledore a thing, but all those nasty feelings had been festering inside him ever since he'd left Grimmauld Place. Before he knew what he was doing, Harry spilled everything, only barely able to keep a few key details to himself. 

"I feel like I'm missing a part of myself. I want them with me, now. Always. And I get so angry when people try to hurt them. I snapped at Mrs Weasley because she insulted Sirius yesterday. And I got annoyed with Hermione, only because she mentioned Remus, which wasn't fair of me. And it hurts not to be with them. It really does."

Harry took a deep breath, staring at the floor miserably.

"I think it's very important that you are aware of those feelings," Dumbledore said, looking thoughtful. 

"I am aware of them. I know it's just the wolf playing with my instincts."

"You should also be aware of any possible consequences of those feelings, Harry."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, confused. 

"You do remember what happened at the end of your fifth year, don't you?"

"Yes." Harry did remember. He remembered all too well how he'd rushed off without thinking when he suspected Sirius was in danger. 

"You were already protective then. I don't think I want to know what you'd do now, if such a situation occurred again," Dumbledore said. 

"It's a weakness," Harry said in a moment of clarity. "It makes me vulnerable. They make me vulnerable."

"Indeed. That's why it's so very important Voldemort doesn't discover your condition. It would be all too easy for him to use it against you, as he has done in the past."

Harry frowned. He hadn't considered that angle yet. Once again, he cursed his own stupidity for landing him in this situation in the first place, but there was nothing that could be changed now. "I intend to keep it a secret," he finally said, meeting Dumbledore's gaze. 

"I'm happy to hear that." Dumbledore got up. "I'm glad we had this talk, Harry. And I'll inform Mr Filch you are relieved of the rest of your detention this week. I believe you could use some rest."

"Thank you," Harry said, feeling slightly better now that he knew he wouldn't have to spend the rest of the week cleaning. 

Dumbledore gave him a nod and left Harry to his thoughts. 

When Harry returned to the common room over three hours later, his fingers stiff from all the cleaning, he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him. Neville sat in one of the chairs near the fire, fast asleep, his head lolling to the side. 

"How was detention?" Ron asked. 

"Was all right," Harry said and sat down in a chair beside Neville. "Dumbledore stopped by and he cancelled detention for the rest of the week."

"Wicked," Ron said with a grin. "I'll bet you he was secretly happy you hit that tosser."

Harry laughed but it was cut off by an urgent yawn.

"I really need sleep. Thanks for waiting up for me." He gave them an apologetic smile.

"Good night, Harry," Hermione said, smiling at him oddly. 

Harry was too tired to wonder if she was angry with him again, and he stumbled up the stairs to his dormitory. He quickly changed into his pyjamas and crawled into bed, shutting the curtains around him and casting a silencing charm on them. 

The soft hum of the mirror under his pillow sent a twirl of warm flutters through Harry's stomach and he activated it, holding it close to his face. 

"Hey, Harry," Sirius said with a smile, but it quickly vanished. "You okay?"

"You look exhausted," Remus said, looking worried. 

"I'm fine. Tired, yes. Was a hard day."

"Want to talk about it?" Sirius asked. 

Harry pulled the covers closer around himself. "Not much to tell. Got in a fight with Malfoy. Got detention."

"Oh, Harry," Remus sighed, but Harry could see a smile tugging on his lips. 

"I miss you so much," Harry whispered, pressing his fingers against the glass in the hopes of feeling them. 

"That's it," Sirius said with a stubborn frown. "We're coming over tomorrow." He glanced at Remus, who nodded his agreement. 

"Tomorrow, Harry. Meet us in the Shack around nine." Sirius gave him a bright smile, mirrored by Remus' warm one. 

"Thank you," Harry said, not sure if that was a good reply, but he was feeling grateful. 

"Go to sleep. We miss you."

"Tomorrow," Harry breathed, closing his eyes. He felt oddly relieved as he let sleep claim him.


	3. Chapter 2

"My name is Bill Weasley," Bill said, and then pointedly looked at Ron. "But you may all call me Professor Weasley."

Ron snorted, but grinned at the same time. 

"Welcome to your final year of Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Leaning his elbows on his desk and his chin in his hands, Harry listened carefully to Bill's introduction. He was feeling much better that morning. Mostly because it had now been four days since the full moon and his body had recovered. But also because he was going to see Sirius and Remus that evening. All he had to do now was get through his day, and with Bill as the teacher of their first class, that shouldn't be too hard. 

"The first subject we'll discuss in this class is cursed artefacts," Bill said, and stepped behind a small table on which he'd put three items. "Tell me, which one of these artefacts do you think is cursed?"

Harry peered at the items with narrowed eyes; there was a silver candlestick, a small, wooden box and a human skull. 

"Knowing Bill, he's cursed them all," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. Harry snickered and Bill snapped his gaze at them. Harry expected a reprimand, but Bill only grinned and winked at Harry, which made Harry's stomach flutter. 

"Yes, Neville?"

Neville cleared his throat, looked around anxiously for a moment, and said, "I think the box is cursed. My gra-...," he swallowed, "gran had a cursed box in which she kept her valuables."

"Let's see, then." Bill picked up a wooden stick, opened the box and reached inside. The lid snapped shut, breaking the stick in half. 

"Five points to Gryffindor. Well done, Neville," Bill said. Neville beamed and Harry gave him a smile, which made Hermione, who was sitting beside Neville, look away. 

"Draco?"

"The candlestick is cursed," Malfoy drawled, looking bored. "It's silver, and thus expensive. You wouldn't want anyone to steal it."

Bill nodded thoughtfully, picked up another stick and held it above the candlestick. A large flame shot up, incinerating half the twig Bill was holding. 

"Indeed. Five points to Slytherin."

Ron grumbled something beside Harry about his brother giving a Malfoy points. Harry rolled his eyes and wondered if Ron even understood that as a professor, Bill couldn't really ignore the Slytherins. 

"And what about this one?" Bill asked, pointing at the skull. Harry raised his hand and Bill nodded at him to speak. 

"It would be a bit too obvious, wouldn't it?" Harry wondered aloud. "I mean, the rest of those items have a function and a reason for being cursed. That's just a skull."

"All right. If I lose my hand, it will be your fault, Harry," Bill said and reached for the skull. Harry held his breath, but nothing happened. Bill grinned and tossed the skull in the air, easily catching it with one hand. 

"Five points to Gryffindor."

Harry met Malfoy's eye across the classroom, and they stared at each other for a moment. Harry hoped his own gaze held as much loathing as he could see in Malfoy's. 

"So what does this demonstration teach us?" Bill asked, putting the skull down and crossing his arms. 

"That looks can be deceiving," Hermione said. Neville nodded his agreement beside her. 

"Exactly. Five points to Gryffindor." Bill leaned against the side of his desk, looking at the class thoughtfully. "When dealing with cursed artefacts, there is often logic in determining which artefact is cursed and which isn't. But...sometimes that logic doesn't work, and you'll need to be able to see if something is cursed without losing your hand."

Harry dipped his quill in his bottle of ink and wrote down everything Bill said. Which spells there were to determine curses, which spells worked for what curses and the theory behind both the spells and the curses. Harry discovered he genuinely liked this subject, and Bill was an excellent teacher. Before he knew it, the bell rang and their class was over. 

"Harry?" Bill asked, approaching Harry's desk as Harry put away his book and parchment. 

"Yeah?"

"I know you instructed several students in your fifth year. Dumbledore told me. I'd like to know which subjects you taught them. Could you stop by my office tonight?"

"Tonight?" Harry frowned, thinking of his date with Sirius and Remus. "Early tonight should be fine. I have stuff to do later."

"Sure. How about seven?"

"I'll be there at seven."

"Thank you, Harry," Bill said with a smile, and turned to wipe the blackboard with a flick of his wand. 

"What was that all about?" Ron asked, lingering in the doorway. 

"Nothing important. He wants to know what spells I taught you all in the DA," Harry said, shouldering his bag and following Ron out into the corridor. 

"Ah, okay. Was a good class, wasn't it?" Ron gave him an almost anxious look. 

"Yeah. Was a very good class," Harry agreed, and Ron's face lit up. 

"What a dreadful class," Malfoy said loudly to Parkinson and Nott. "Please, this was first year's material. Father said Dumbledore has finally gone senile, what with hiring a _Weasley_ to teach us."

"That's it," Ron said, dropping his bag to the floor. "This will be worth a week's detention."

Before Harry could stop him, Ron launched himself at Malfoy and punched him square in the face. 

"Stop it!" Hermione shrieked, running towards the two wresting boys. "Harry, stop him!"

But Harry couldn't stop Ron. In fact, Harry was having a lot of trouble not joining Ron in kicking the shite out of Malfoy for insulting Bill. His body responded to the sight of Ron and Malfoy landing punches in each other's faces and stomachs, and Harry felt his muscles tense and his hands clench into fists, ready to pounce.

"Enough!" Bill yelled, and he grabbed both Ron and Malfoy, pulling them off each other roughly. "Twenty points from Gryffindor. What was that all about, Ron?"

Ron wiped blood off his nose with the back of his hand. "He insulted you."

Bill rolled his eyes and turned to Malfoy. "Is there something you want to say to my face, Draco?"

Straightening his robes, Malfoy sneered at Bill. "You're a lousy teacher."

"Twenty points from Slytherin for insulting a professor," Bill said with a smirk. "Now get out of here, before I sign both of you up for detention."

With a last glare at Malfoy, Ron picked up his bag and followed Harry and Hermione. 

"That was uncalled for, Ron," Hermione chided. "Plus, Malfoy is Head Boy. You can't go around attacking the Head Boy."

"I can if he insults my family," Ron muttered, and Harry silently agreed with him. Of course, Harry wasn't about to tell Hermione that. She was gazing oddly enough at him as it was. 

"You two are impossible," Hermione said tartly, and took off for Arithmancy. 

Harry and Ron made their way down to classroom eleven for Divination. Harry had wanted to drop it after his fifth year, but when he'd heard from Dumbledore that Firenze was staying on as the teacher for the sixth and seventh years while Trelawney was reinstated as the teacher for the third, forth and fifth years, Harry had decided to keep it. He liked Firenze, even though it was hard to understand the centaur most of the time.

Firenze's classroom still held a forest and Harry stopped when he entered it, inhaling the forest air. It felt comfortable, like home almost, unlike it had ever done before, and Harry suspected that might be part of his infection, as well. The idea of running through a dark forest with Moony and Padfoot made his stomach flutter and his brain melt. 

"Harry Potter," Firenze said, nodding at him. Harry stared up at Firenze's intense, clear-blue eyes and swallowed. 

"Hi," he said dumbly, and hurried after Ron, sitting himself down against a tree trunk.

"Today, we will talk about intuition," Firenze said when the last students had found a seat in the clearing. "While it isn't a true form of Divination, intuition is a gift most humans possess. Intuition is often disregarded, but it can be a helpful tool in predicting one's fate."

Harry pulled up his knees and rested his arms on it, listening to every word Firenze said. 

"Some creatures have better intuition than others. Humans have good intuition, but rarely follow it." Firenze paced in front of them, swishing his long tail.

Dean raised his hand. "But when do you know it's intuition or just a lousy idea?"

Firenze's lips tugged up in a slow smile. "That is the question, isn't it?"

"When you feel it in your gut?" Neville offered. 

Harry slowly shook his head, remembering how sure he'd been that Sirius was in danger at the end of his fifth year. And that only he could help him. How wrong he'd been, then. 

"Harry Potter?" Firenze asked, and Harry looked up at him. "Do you have something to say?"

"Even your intuition can be wrong, sometimes," Harry said softly, ignoring the curious looks he got from his classmates. "You can feel it in your gut and be absolutely sure you're right, and then it turns out you're still wrong."

"Yes," said Firenze, nodding at Harry. "The key, as it is with all types of divination, is experience. You will need to learn to recognize your intuition, and you will need to learn to follow only those thoughts that will prove to be truth."

The rest of the two hours was spent discussing intuition and students sharing stories of moments when their intuition had proven to be right. Harry kept quiet for most of the time, but he did listen intently and thought it was an interesting subject. 

The bell rang and everyone scrambled to their feet, readying themselves to go to lunch. 

"Harry Potter? May I have a word with you?" Firenze asked as Harry swiped his robes clean of moss. Ron halted beside Harry, and Firenze looked at him. "I wish to speak with him alone."

"All right?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded.

When Ron pulled the door closed, Firenze looked Harry up and down and put a hand on Harry's head. Harry stiffened, but didn't pull back. 

"Your aura has changed since last I've seen you," Firenze said quietly, narrowing his blue eyes. "I see a lot of darkness in it. A particular signature taints it."

Harry let out a deep sigh. He should have expected a centaur to recognize him for what he truly was. "I had an accident over the summer," he mumbled. 

"I assume Dumbledore knows?" 

"Yeah," Harry said, wondering if Firenze would hate him now. He had no idea how centaurs felt about werewolves. Then again, Firenze wasn't an ordinary centaur, since he chose to help humans rather than keep with his herd.

"You have problems with control, Harry Potter," Firenze said, stroking his hand down Harry's face and cupping his chin so Harry was forced to meet his intimidating gaze. "You have to learn to control yourself. I foresee much darkness if you don't."

"What sort of darkness?" Harry asked, feeling worried. But Firenze ignored him and stared at Harry for a moment. 

"A cloaked man. You should be careful around him. He will want you to believe lies for truth."

"Huh?"

Firenze released Harry and stepped back, his hooves almost silent on the soft, forest floor. "Until our next class, Harry Potter."

Blinking, Harry watched Firenze disappear between the trees. He really wanted to call Firenze back and ask him to explain, but Harry had learned that Firenze only said what he wanted to say and that pressing the matter never worked. So Harry would have to figure it out on his own. He grabbed his bag and headed to the Great Hall. 

"A cloaked man?" Ron asked with a frown after Harry had told him and Hermione what Firenze had said. He'd left out the part about his aura and his control for obvious reasons, but he saw no problem with telling them about Firenze's other prediction. 

"That's what he said." Harry shrugged and filled his plate with toast, feeling quite hungry. 

"It could be anything," Hermione said, pouring a dash of milk in her tea. "It could be the clerk at Honeydukes trying to have you believe the Pumpkin Pasties are from yesterday instead of last week."

"This is Firenze we're talking about," Harry said, irritated at Hermione's dismissal. 

"Yeah," Ron chimed in, leaning his elbows on the table and giving Hermione an annoyed look. "He's not some fraud like Trelawney. He's a centaur. He knows what he's talking about."

"It's Divination. It's all just guesswork, at best." Hermione rolled her eyes and buttered a slice of toast. 

Neither Harry nor Ron spoke to Hermione during the rest of their lunch and Care of Magical Creatures. 

Hagrid seemed in a good mood. Much better than he'd been during the second half of their sixth year, after he'd been forced to move Grawp back to Russia on Dumbledore's orders. Hagrid had got his hands on a few Augureys and they spent their afternoon trying to coax the shy birds out of their nests so they could feed them dried insects.

It wasn't until after supper, when they arrived in the common room, that Ron turned to Hermione. 

"About that Charms essay," Ron started, scuffing his shoe in the carpet. "I was having some problems with it."

Hermione waved him over and Ron joined her at one of the tables near the window. Harry gave them both a smile, but he had no time to talk to them since Bill expected him. He got his bag, stuffed his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map into it, and then decided to take his homework with him as well. 

"I'm off to see Bill," he told Ron and Hermione in a hushed voice. "After that, I have some business to attend to, so don't wait up for me."

Ron gave him a knowing look. During his sixth year, Harry had referred to his private Occlumency lessons with Snape and Dumbledore as 'business' and his friends knew what it meant. 

Harry hurried to Bill's office and made it just in time. He knocked and the door swung open. 

"Come in, Harry," Bill said from behind his desk. "Tea?"

"Sure, thanks." Harry closed the door and sat down on the other side of the desk, looking around the office. It was familiar and yet not, since Bill had decorated it with some private things. 

But Harry still remembered what the office had looked like when Remus had been their professor. And how odd it was to think back at those days, now that Remus was his lover. Harry still remembered how Remus had invited him for tea and had shown him the Grindylows, and how Harry had suspected Snape was trying to poison Remus. 

"Harry?" Bill's voice brought Harry back from his memories. "Sugar?"

"Yes, please," Harry said and focused on Bill's freckled face and warm smile. 

The first hour was spent with Harry summing up all the spells he'd taught the other students and how they'd done. Bill took occasional notes and asked questions. After their third cup of tea, Harry had told Bill all there was to tell, and Bill leaned back in his seat. 

"I liked today's class," Harry said conversationally. "A very interesting subject."

"Thanks. Curses are interesting. Ron told me you want to become an Auror?"

"Um...yeah," Harry mumbled. "I'm thinking about it." He still hadn't come up with a plan for telling his friends he wouldn't apply for Auror training. Nor did he know what he did want to do with his life after Hogwarts. But with his infection, Auror training was out of the question, that much Harry knew. 

"I think you'll make a fine Auror," Bill said and leaned forward in his chair, arms resting on his desk. "Harry, I hope you don't mind me bringing this up, but Ron told me about your sexual preference."

Harry felt his cheeks flush. 

"I just wanted to say that if you ever wanted to talk about it, I'm right here."

"But..." Harry started and frowned. "I thought you were, you know...you were with Fleur."

Bill grinned. "You can like both flavours, you know."

"That's the exact same thing Sirius said."

"Ah, so Sirius knows?"

"Yeah. And Remus," Harry said, feeling better now that he knew Bill was like him, in a way. It didn't feel weird talking about it. "Sirius gave me the talk and I brought it up and he explained those birds and bees."

Bill snickered. "I'm glad to hear that. It's hard when you can't talk about it, which is why I offered."

"Thanks. I appreciate it," Harry said, offering Bill a grateful smile. "I don't know anyone at Hogwarts who is like that."

"So you're not seeing anyone?"

"No," Harry lied. He'd become very good at lying, courtesy of Snape and his Occlumency lessons. "Not really looking, either."

"Oh, but you will," Bill said teasingly. "Once those hormones kick in, you'll never not be looking again."

Harry grinned. "I never said I haven't tried anything yet. I'm just too busy to be doing anything at the moment."

"How is Ron taking it? He's as straight as an arrow, for as far as I know."

"He seemed a little weird about it when we discussed it on the train," Harry said, shrugging. "But mostly, he seems all right with it."

"Good. He should be." When Harry frowned, Bill added, "What with me and the twins."

"The twins?"

"Positively queer," Bill said, laughing. 

"I always suspected that."

"Wait until they find out about that side of you. I suspect they'll be following you around like puppies."

Harry felt himself blush at the mention of puppies. "They?" he asked, trying to sound as if he were completely inexperienced in the matter of threesomes. 

"They do everything together, don't they?" Bill shook his head fondly.

"I like the twins well enough, but to be honest, I hope they never find out," Harry said seriously. 

"Oh, come on. You could do much worse than hooking up with a Weasley," Bill teased with a crooked smile. 

"I never said I objected to the thought of hooking up with a Weasley," Harry said evenly, meeting Bill's daring comment and raising it a notch. "Just the thought of two of them is a bit much."

Bill quirked an eyebrow. "I should really remember I'm a professor and you are a student, I believe."

Harry snickered. He'd never flirted with anyone before, and he sure as hell never thought he'd ever be flirting with Bill, but it was fun. Not that he intended to do anything with Bill, because Harry only wanted Sirius and Remus. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself in a harmless way with a good-looking man like Bill. 

"But like I said, I'm not looking," Harry said, trying to tone down the conversation. 

Bill narrowed his eyes for a moment and then shook his head, smiling at Harry. "Fair enough."

Harry glanced up at the clock and noticed that it was ten to nine. "I have to go," he said and got up. "I have some stuff to do. Thanks for the tea and for the talk."

"You're welcome, Harry. And you're more than welcome to come back if you ever feel like talking." Bill got up as well and opened the door for Harry. 

"See you," Harry said and he hurried down the corridor, meanwhile pulling his invisibility cloak from his bag. Making sure no one was around, he pulled the cloak around himself and all but ran out of the castle. 

As Harry made his way across the grass, his bladder objected fiercely and Harry cursed himself for the three cups of tea he'd had. He really wanted to go straight to the Shack, but he suspected he wouldn't have time to take a piss once he saw Sirius and Remus. And the idea of having sex with a full bladder wasn't a very appealing one. 

Harry stopped in front of the first tree he could find and pulled his aching prick out of his robes. He really hoped no one would notice him, because he was sure that seeing a floating penis wasn't something people would take kindly to. 

Relieving himself, Harry let out a deep, satisfied sigh, and shook himself off. He tucked his prick away while he ran towards the Whomping Willow, eager to see his lovers again. It had been too long, even if it had only been two days. He found a long stick and prodded the knot to stop the willow from trying to tear him into tiny pieces. His heart hammering excitedly in his chest, Harry lowered himself into the passage and ran all the way to the trapdoor. 

He pushed it open and climbed up, peeking inside the Shack. Remus stood in the middle of the room, smiling at him. Harry smiled back, feeling a weight fall off his shoulders, and he took a step towards his lover. 

And then something pounced on him and grabbed him in a tight embrace. 

"You're late," Sirius whispered in his ear. 

"Had to take a piss," Harry gasped, grabbing hold of Sirius' head and pulling him down for a searing kiss. 

Remus chuckled and joined them, wrapping his arms around Harry from behind. 

Harry felt overwhelmed. Sirius' lips and tongue tasted perfect and he didn't really want to let them go, but he had to kiss Remus, so he turned in their embrace and crushed his lips to Remus'. After devouring Remus' mouth, Harry turned again, biting at Sirius' lower lip. 

"Fuck, I hope one of you brought the lube," he whispered. Sirius laughed and lowered himself, grabbing Harry's arm and hip and hoisting Harry up over his shoulder. 

"Of course we brought lube," he said, carrying Harry unceremoniously up the stairs. 

"Sirius transfigured a bed," Remus said softly, giving Harry a knowing smile. Harry snickered and decided that Sirius' arse, which was at his eye level, made a perfect target, so he bit it. 

"You're going to pay for that," Sirius mock-snarled, stomping inside one of the bedrooms. He threw Harry on a large bed, and Harry was happy to notice it didn't break under his bouncing weight. 

Sirius stared down at Harry, his long hair half-curtaining his face, his chest heaving under his panted breaths. Remus crossed the threshold and Sirius spun around, grabbing the back of Remus' neck and hauling him in for a bruising kiss. 

"Fuck," Harry breathed, eyes wide as he looked at his two lovers kissing and clawing at each other's robes. He lowered his hand, trailed it down his robes and cupped his hard cock, squeezing it pleasantly. 

"He's cheating," Sirius said, pulling back from Remus and glaring down at Harry's offending hand stroking himself. 

"We can't have that," Remus whispered, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips. 

Harry grinned sheepishly, but it quickly transformed in a wordless cry when both Sirius and Remus pounced on him, the bed creaking dangerously beneath their combined force. Before Harry knew what was happening, his robes were undone and Sirius shoved them off his shoulders while Remus pulled his boxers down. Harry didn't even have time to kick off his shoes before Sirius rolled him on his side and licked his way down his spine. 

"Oh, god," Harry gasped, curling his fingers in Remus' hair when Remus attached his mouth to one of Harry's nipples. One of Sirius' hands stroked Harry's thigh and then urged his leg up, exposing his pucker. Harry felt Sirius' hot breaths ghost over his entrance, quickly followed by a slick tongue licking and probing. 

Remus nibbled his way down Harry's chest, nuzzling the dark hairs around Harry's navel, and licked the sensitive head of Harry's cock. Pulling the foreskin back gently, Remus wrapped his lips around Harry's prick and sucked it down to the base. 

Letting his eyes fall shut, Harry gave himself over to the countless sensations. Their scent all around him, their hands stroking his skin and their lips and tongues sucking his aching erection and licking his entrance. 

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna," he whimpered helplessly. He didn't want to come yet, too soon, not yet, but the urge to climax was so overwhelming and Harry writhed between his lovers, skin shivering and heart pounding. And then Remus hummed around his cock and Sirius pushed his tongue inside and Harry was lost. 

"God, yes," he cried, his cock twitching in Remus' mouth as he shot his release down Remus' throat. His body jerked against the sheets and he felt hands steadying him, stroking him until he came down from his climax, limp and feeling better than he had since he'd arrived at Hogwarts. 

"Good?" Sirius asked softly, kissing his throat and pressing his still-dressed body against Harry's back. 

"Brilliant," Harry sighed and blinked his eyes open, staring at Remus' face smiling at him. "But you haven't yet..."

"You're seventeen," Sirius said, stroking his hair. 

"And you're a werewolf," Remus added, reaching for the buttons on his robes. "You shouldn't have any problems getting ready again in a moment."

Harry grinned and stretched himself lazily. He felt too comfortable to move but the thought of more sex was a very tempting one. 

"Do you want to fuck me?" Sirius whispered in his ear. Harry snapped his head around and nodded once. Sirius kissed him, slipping his tongue between Harry's lips to administer a teasing lick, and then rolled onto his back to undo his robes. 

Harry looked back and forth between his lovers as they pulled off their clothes and sweat-slick skin was revealed inch by inch. 

"God, I've missed you two so much," Harry blurted out, unsure where that had come from, but it was something he just had to say. 

"Missed you too." Sirius kissed the corner of Harry's mouth and then rolled onto his side, his back turned to Harry. 

"Missed you very much," Remus whispered, urging Harry to roll over, facing Sirius, and he pushed his naked body against Harry's back. 

Sirius pressed something in Harry's hands, and Harry discovered it was a tube of lubricant. He uncapped it while Sirius raised his leg a bit, giving Harry all the access he needed. He felt Remus stroking his arse and he lifted his own leg, hooking it over Sirius' hip. 

"I want to feel you inside me," Sirius breathed, looking at Harry over his shoulder. Harry smiled at him and slipped two slick fingers inside Sirius, seeking out his prostate and torturing it with slow strokes. "Yes, Harry, just like that." Sirius let his head fall back to the mattress, releasing a deep sigh. 

As he prepared Sirius, sliding his fingers in and out, stretching him more and more with every thrust, Harry felt Remus' fingers tease his entrance and he bucked back against them, urging Remus to push them inside. Remus nibbled on Harry's shoulder, his lips warm and his teeth daring, and thrust his fingers inside Harry, opening him up with deft strokes. 

"Feels so good," Harry moaned and pulled his fingers out of Sirius, who was pressing back at him impatiently. He replaced them with his cock and nudged the head inside. Sirius thrust back and impaled himself on Harry's prick, forcing a sharp intake of breath from Harry. 

"Feels bloody brilliant." Sirius looked over his shoulder again and Harry caught his lips in a kiss but moaned when he felt Remus' fingers slip out of him. He stilled his hips, his cock buried deep inside Sirius, and waited until he felt Remus' prick press against his entrance. Then he pushed back as Remus thrust forward, and finally he felt complete again. 

Their thrusts were slow, drawing every bit of pleasure out as long as they could. Remus controlled their rhythm, his cock pushing Harry inside Sirius and pulling him back out again. Harry didn't want it to end. He didn't want to lose the feeling of their bodies all around him, his cock sliding inside Sirius as if he belonged there and Remus' prick thrusting inside him, assuring him that he did. 

Harry let his head fall back and Remus claimed his mouth in a deep kiss while Harry reached around Sirius to wrap his fingers around Sirius' throbbing cock. Sirius climaxed first, pushing back against Harry with a deep groan as Harry felt his semen spurt hotly across his fingers. He milked Sirius, letting Remus increase their thrusts, sharper and faster, until his own body gave in and Harry came with a gasp of breath, filling Sirius with his release. Remus gave a few more thrusts, holding Harry close in a tight embrace, and moaned when he came deep inside Harry, and Harry groaned at the idea of having Remus' seed inside him, claiming him, assuring him he was theirs. 

They lay together for a long time, stroking slick skin and damp hair and stealing kisses, their bodies still locked together, and Harry didn't want to pull out of Sirius or have Remus slip out of him. What he really wanted was to give in to the pull of oblivion and sleep between their bodies and wake up in that exact position so they could fuck again. 

"What time is it?" Sirius finally asked. Remus reached behind him for his wand and murmured a spell. Harry saw numbers light up above them. It was ten thirty. 

"I have homework, still," Harry said, heaving a heavy sigh. 

"Did you bring it?" Sirius asked, and when Harry nodded, he said, "Get it then. We can help."

"I'll get it," Remus said, pulled back from Harry and summoned Harry's bag as well as their own bag up the stairs. Harry slipped out of Sirius and sat up, catching his bag. 

Remus leaned back against the headboard, rummaging through his bag. Harry settled between his spread legs and Sirius rolled onto his stomach beside Harry, looking at him curiously while Harry pulled out his Transfiguration homework. 

"Here," Remus said, and handed both Harry and Sirius a bottle of butterbeer. He also threw a bag of salty crisps at Sirius' head. They were Sirius' favourite post-shag snack food, Harry had learned during the summer. Sirius tore into the bag and had already stuffed three handfuls of crisps into his mouth before Harry had taken his first sip of butterbeer. 

"I have a Transfiguration essay, but I don't really get it," Harry said, reaching for the bag of crisps. Sirius tried to hold it out of his reach, but when Remus slapped his bare arse, he relented and offered it to Harry.

"What's it about, then?" Sirius asked, flushing another handful of crisps down with a gulp of butterbeer. 

"Transfiguring one living thing into another. The difference between that and transfiguring non-living stuff."

"I remember that. Let me have it." Sirius reached for Harry's book and parchment. 

"Sirius," Remus said behind Harry. "You can't write Harry's essay."

"You're right, Moony." Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "McGonagall might recognize my handwriting. All right, you write, Harry, and I'll talk."

"Padfoot!" 

At the sight of Sirius' nonplussed look, Harry chortled into his bottle of butterbeer. 

"Harry has to do his own homework. You can help him, but you can't quote him an entire essay."

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll just help. What don't you get?"

"Why it's different, really," Harry said, staring at his blank sheet of parchment. 

"Remus would call it molecular biology, whatever the hell that means, but in truth it's all about the soul," Sirius said. 

"That's helpful," Remus said, chuckling. 

"I still don't get it," Harry muttered, amused at his lovers' bickering but frustrated at his own stupidity. 

"All living things have a soul. It makes them unique, even if they're the same species. So if you want to transfigure a turtle into a hare, you not only have to get them transfigured physically, but you also have to transfigure their soul, which is hard."

"If you don't transfigure the soul, you end up with a hollow shell," Remus added. "And a hollow shell isn't quite the same as a being with a soul, so the transfiguration won't be a success."

"What would happen then after you've been kissed by a dementor? Could you still transfigure that body and maybe transfigure a soul?" Harry mused. When he noticed Sirius tense, he quickly put his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "I'm sorry. Didn't think when I said that." 

"Don't be," Sirius said, waving Harry's apology away with his bottle of butterbeer. "It's a good question. But the answer is no. Once the soul is gone, you can't transfigure it. You could transfigure a completely new one, like you do when transfiguring something inanimate into a living creature. That's easier, but you'll end up with a blank soul."

"Is transfiguring something incompletely, when you don't transfigure their soul, like what you get when a dementor sucks out your soul?" Harry asked softly, not wanting to upset Sirius. 

"Not quite," Remus said, rubbing Harry's back. "When you make an incomplete transfiguration, there never was a soul for that creature to begin with. When a dementor kisses you, he rips your soul from you. But yes, either way you end up with a shell that breathes but doesn't quite live. There's really no life inside something without a soul."

"Is that why becoming an animagus is so hard?" Harry asked, glancing at Sirius. 

"Yep. You not only have to find and transfigure yourself into a new physical form, but you also have to find your new form's soul. Otherwise the transfiguration wouldn't work," Sirius said, giving Harry a smile. 

"So Padfoot has his own soul?"

"Not quite," Sirius said, and snickered when Harry released a frustrated breath. "Padfoot has a soul, but it merges with mine when I transfigure into him. That's the reason my mind isn't completely human anymore when I'm in that form. Padfoot's soul gives me doggy thoughts, I guess."

Harry laughed and he heard Remus chuckle behind him.

"It's a good excuse when I feel like humping someone's leg." Sirius grinned and pulled back when Harry tried to slap his head. 

Harry frowned and stroked the feathery end of his quill against his lips. Then he turned his head to look at Remus. "Do I have two souls? Does the wolf have a soul inside me?"

"For a while, after the infection and before your first transformation, you had two souls," Remus said quietly, letting the hand that had been stroking Harry's back fall to the bed. "But they merged once you transformed, much like Sirius' soul merges with Padfoot's when he changes his form."

"So that was why I felt so odd those weeks, then?"

"Yes. The infection planted a new soul inside you and it grew until it could merge with your human soul. That's why you had those headaches and pains and strange urges. There was a parasite soul trying to gain control of you."

"But now it can't take control anymore, except when the moon is full?" Harry wondered. 

"Exactly. The moon influences the balance in your soul, your merged souls, much like it balances the tides."

"So I'm not human anymore? Since my soul merged with the soul of a werewolf."

"No, technically you're not human anymore," Remus whispered. Sirius looked away, mindlessly reaching for the discarded bag of crisps. Harry pulled at the label on his bottle, letting Remus' words sink in.

"So the Ministry is right, then. Classifying werewolves as beasts rather than humans," Harry said, frowning. 

"No, they bloody well aren't," Sirius snapped, upturning his bag of crisps and spilling half the contents over the bed in a wild gesture. 

"Sirius, hush," Remus said mildly. "Of course they're not right. But werewolves aren't human, exactly. We aren't beasts either, though."

"Only once a month. Then we are beasts. I feel quite human the rest of the time." Harry grabbed a few crisps from the sheets and looked at them thoughtfully. "Except of course for some instincts. I guess they changed because my old and my new soul merged."

"Yes, that's how the wolf side of you influences your feelings," Remus said, and sipped his butterbeer, leaning his head back against the wall. 

"Okay. I think I understand this a bit better now." Harry dipped his quill in the bottle of ink and started writing his essay. Sirius gave him some pointers – not too many since Remus was keeping a close eye on both of them – and Harry asked more questions when things weren't clear. And soon enough, Harry had finished his essay and pulled out his Charms homework. 

Remus proved useful in explaining him the theory behind Confundus Charms, and Harry listened and scribbled, and realized that he was having a very good time, even thought he was doing homework. Meeting his lovers, the brilliant sex they'd had, and their late-night picnic while they sat naked on the bed and went through Harry's homework was just what Harry needed to feel whole and complete.

All too soon for Harry's liking, Remus announced that it was past midnight and time for Harry to return to the castle. 

"I wish I could stay here," Harry sighed, stuffing his homework into his bag. "Or go home with you."

Sirius kissed the top of Harry's head and reached for his robes. "You'll see us again soon. I see no reason why we can't meet you here a few times a week. As long as you bring your homework and get that done, we can use the rest of the time to shag ourselves silly," he said and then looked at Remus. "Right?"

"Sounds fine," Remus said, pulling on his boxers. 

"Forgot to ask, Harry. Why did you get detention?" Sirius gave Harry a crooked grin, as if he were happy Harry had got detention in the first place. 

"Malfoy insulted Neville. Said some nasty things about him not being competent enough to die. So I punched him a bit."

"You punched him?" Sirius grinned wider, but quickly looked away when Remus frowned at him. 

"Try to control those feelings, Harry. You really must get a better grip on them."

"I know," Harry sighed, nodding at Remus. "I'm working on it." And then he remembered the other bit of bad news he'd got on his first day. "And they planned the first Quidditch match on the day after November's full moon. Gryffindor versus Slytherin."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Remus said, buttoning up his robes. Sirius gave Harry a grave smile. 

"But I was thinking," Harry said and laced up his shoes. "Snape gave me Pepperup and that helped, so I think I could play in that game if I just take it easy and focus on the Snitch."

"No," Remus said firmly. 

Harry snapped his gaze up at him and narrowed his eyes. He felt a surge of irritation rise up in his chest at Remus' dismissal. 

"But I don't have to do much, just sit on my broom and –"

"I said no." Remus narrowed his eyes as well, glaring at Harry. 

Harry shot up from the bed, irritation morphing into flaring anger. "You don't get to tell me what I can or cannot do. You're not my father!"

Remus stiffened, blood draining from his face. Sirius, who'd been listening to their exchange quietly, inhaled a sharp breath, eyebrows rising in surprise. 

"Fuck," Harry gasped after he realized what he'd just said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –"

"No, I'm not your father," Remus said icily, cutting Harry off. "But I am the werewolf who infected you and that makes me responsible for you and your condition, and you will not risk your life for a stupid game, and that's final."

Harry swallowed. That was as close to pissed off as he'd ever seen Remus, and it wasn't a pleasant sight. 

"Harry," Sirius said, and grabbed Harry's wrist, pulling him back onto the bed. "Moony is right. You won't be in any shape to play in that game." When Harry wanted to respond, Sirius raised his hand and continued. "Let me finish, please. It's not fair that you can't play, I know. But these are the cards you've been dealt and they're all you have to play this game. And there are rules to play by, Harry." Sirius paused and frowned. "And I can't believe I just said that."

Harry snorted with laughter, the tension in his body melting away. Sirius grinned and Remus smiled at them both. 

"I'm sorry, Remus," Harry said, offering him an apologetic smile. "I'll say I'm sick for that game."

"Come here." Sirius pulled Harry into a hug and gestured Remus over. When Remus joined them, Sirius pulled him into a hug as well, and Harry relaxed between their bodies. 

"We all right again?" Sirius asked. Harry nodded and looked up at Remus, who lowered his face and pressed a kiss to Harry's lips.

They eventually let go of each other, and Harry grabbed his bag and followed his lovers down the stairs. 

"Go straight back to the castle," Remus told him, and gave him a kiss. 

"We'll talk to you tomorrow evening." Sirius kissed Harry as well and then slapped his arse, pushing in the direction of the trapdoor. 

"Yeah, tomorrow," Harry said, and climbed down the stairs. He pulled his invisibility cloak around him and ran back to the castle, missing Sirius and Remus already.


	4. Chapter 3

"What do you think of Zacharias Smith?"

Harry was so busy worrying about his upcoming Legilimency lesson and taking it out on his mashed potatoes that he almost didn't hear Ron.

"What?"

Ron took a sip of pumpkin juice and then gestured towards the Hufflepuff table with his cup. "Smith. What do you think of him?"

"Um...should I think anything of him at this very moment?" Harry asked, confused. Ron had been acting strangely all week, asking him what he thought of random boys at the most impossible moments. 

"I've heard that Smith likes blokes," Ron said, leaning closer to Harry to keep their conversation private. Not that anyone was paying attention to them; Neville sat opposite Harry, nose buried in the evening edition of the Daily Prophet; Ginny, Seamus and Dean were discussing Quidditch; and Hermione was nowhere to be seen, off doing her Head Girl thing.

"And?" Harry waved his fork at Ron to continue. 

"So, you know, if he likes blokes and you like blokes, I figured you two might want to hook up." Ron shrugged and looked down at his plate. 

"Are you trying to set me up with Smith?" Harry asked, frowning. "But Ron, you hate Smith."

"Yeah, I do, but that's not the point. If you two can get it on, then you should."

Harry was baffled; he dropped his knife and fork and just stared at Ron. 

"What?" Ron asked, looking as confused as Harry felt. 

"Ron," Harry started, and then he took a deep breath. He had no idea how he should tell Ron not to try to set him up with random blokes without offending his best friend. "I don't have time to hook up with anyone, really. So you shouldn't bother to ask around for me. I appreciate it, but there's no need."

Ron nodded. "All right. But if you had time, would you consider Smith a good-looking bloke? I've got no idea how to tell if a bloke is good-looking, and I figured you'd at least want a decent-looking bloke in any case."

But Harry didn't hear much of what Ron said. He noticed the front page of the Daily Prophet Neville had just folded beside his plate. 

"Can I have this?" Harry asked, pointing at the paper. 

Neville looked up from the Quidditch section and nodded. "Sure. I'm done with it."

"Thanks." Harry grabbed and unfolded it and then stared at the headline, his appetite gone.

DARK CREATURES' ACTIVISTS BANNED FROM MINISTRY OF MAGIC

There was a picture beneath the headline of a handful of men being restrained by Aurors while shouting at Fudge in the Atrium of the Ministry. Below the article was a picture of a rugged-looking man with stubble-covered cheeks, narrowed eyes and a familiar-looking scar on his throat, disappearing beneath the collar of his robes. 

The text below the picture read: _'Patrick McKinley, 54, known werewolf and Dark Creatures' activist, was banned from the Ministry of Magic for disrupting the peace and threatening the Minister for Magic.'_

Harry reached for his pumpkin juice and drained his cup. Wiping his mouth, he took a deep breath and started reading the article. 

_'Early this afternoon, the Ministry of Magic was stormed by five Dark Creatures' activists, who demanded to talk to the Minister for Magic. When Ministry personnel attempted to stop them, they forced their way inside and disrupted a meeting the Minister for Magic attended._

_The Minister had no choice but to call in the Aurors and remove the activists from the Ministry. As they were being removed, one of the activists, and allegedly their leader, Patrick McKinley, shouted to the Minister: "Would you rather have us join You-Know-Who?"_

_The Minister later said in response to that threat: "We will not bend to the will of these creatures, these servants of You-Know-Who. The laws on Dark Creatures are there to assure the safety of all wizards and witches in Great Britain."_

_The activists were officially banned from the Ministry of Magic, and should they attempt to enter it again, they will be arrested and sentenced to a minimum of two years in Azkaban, as per decree eleven of the Dark Creatures Act.'_

Harry noticed his hands were trembling as he read the article again and then stared at the picture of McKinley, realizing that whatever the Ministry did to McKinley, they could also do to him if his secret ever came out. 

"If you don't fancy Smith, there's always Justin Finch-Fletchley. Apparently he got caught snogging Anthony Goldstein last year," Ron said, helping himself to a second serving of strawberry pie. 

"Shut up!" Harry snapped, unable to control his sudden irritation at his friend. "Sorry," he muttered quickly and pushed himself up, his fist clenched around the article. "I've got business. I'll be back late."

Without giving Ron a second glance, Harry hurried out of the Great Hall, hoping Remus was early. 

The whole week had gone rather well. Harry had been busy with his classes and his homework, and he'd met Sirius and Remus in the Shack a few times. He'd even managed to control his temper and not rise to any bait Malfoy threw at him. Harry had felt reasonably well those past few days, but now, after reading that article, all that was left was an uncomfortable feeling gathering in his stomach. 

He didn't know exactly why, other than that what had happened in the Ministry today was wrong. 

"Harry?" Remus asked when Harry rounded the corner to Snape's office. 

"Thank god you're early," Harry said, panting, and waved the article in front of Remus' face. "Can we talk somewhere, quickly?"

"Of course." Remus gestured for Harry to follow him and led him to the toilets down the hall. 

While Remus locked the door behind them, Harry checked the cubicles to make sure they were alone. 

"What's wrong?" Remus asked, resting his hand on Harry's arm. 

"This." Harry thrust the article into Remus' hand. "Something about Dark Creatures and the Ministry and a werewolf and Voldemort."

"Calm down." Remus put his hand on the back of Harry's neck, but when he glanced down at the article, Harry felt Remus' fingers stiffen. 

Harry waited anxiously while Remus read the article. When Remus lowered it, Harry bit his lip and waited for Remus to say something, anything that would make him feel better again, like Remus was always able to. 

"This doesn't really concern you," Remus finally said. 

"Doesn't concern me? Of course it does." Harry pointed vigorously at the article. "That concerns werewolves. They were banned from the Ministry and they threatened to join Voldemort."

"McKinley and his friends were banned, Harry," Remus said quietly, not meeting Harry's gaze. "They are notorious activists and I'm sure they had this coming."

"But he's a werewolf."

Remus nodded. "That he is." 

"You know him?" Harry asked, trying to make sense of the dark expression on Remus' face. 

"I've met him a time or two. He's bad news. Forget about him."

"What's decree eleven?"

Remus snapped his gaze up at Harry, his eyes narrowing. 

"They refer to decree eleven in that article," Harry said, again pointing at the paper in Remus' hand. "What does it mean?"

"Decree eleven means that werewolves and other Dark Creatures can be sentenced to a minimum of two years in Azkaban for any offence they commit." Remus' tone was unusually cold and Harry came close to flinching away from it. 

"Any offence? What does that mean?"

"It means exactly that. Any offence punishable by wizarding law. In a lot of cases, normal wizards would get away with paying a fine. Dark Creatures, however, can be locked up in Azkaban for committing the same acts."

"But that's –"

"Unfair. I know, Harry. Every decree in the Dark Creatures Act is unfair."

"Then we have to –"

"You have to do nothing," Remus cut him off again. "You have to finish Hogwarts right now. After that, you can concern yourself with wizarding law. Not now."

Harry sighed and nodded weakly. "What are the other decrees?"

"Harry, this is really not the time to –"

"Please, Remus." Harry looked at him with pleading eyes.

"We're going to be late. We'll discuss it some other time." Remus pulled Harry with him and unlocked the door. Harry wanted to ask more, but they weren't alone any longer. A small group of Slytherins passed them and Harry kept his mouth shut and let Remus guide him to Snape's office. 

"You two are late," Snape snapped when they entered his office. "I refuse to waste my precious time on you if you can't even make it here on time."

"Our sincerest apologies, Severus. We had some rather urgent business to discuss following an article in the Daily Prophet," Remus said mildly. 

"Ah, yes," Snape said, an unpleasant smile tugging on his lips. "I saw that Fudge finally came to his senses about those stubborn activists."

"Indeed he did," Remus replied, his voice still calm and gentle. Harry had no idea how Remus managed that, since he was already feeling the anger rise in his chest. When Remus threw him a quick warning look, Harry pushed those feelings back and looked at Snape with a blank face. 

Remus sat down on a chair in the corner of Snape's office and Snape moved to his desk, reaching for his wand. Harry saw the Pensieve and knew Snape would once again extract memories he didn't want Harry to see. Harry thought that was unfair, since Snape had ploughed his way through Harry's entire mind during their Occlumency lessons last year. 

"I didn't know you had such faith in Harry," Remus said quietly when Snape put his wand to his temple. "He must be quite the competent wizard if you're putting aside your memories for him."

Snape spun around, glaring at Remus. Staring down at his shoes, Harry tried not to grin and silently thanked Remus for his ability to say exactly the right thing. 

"Potter is a mediocre wizard at best," Snape snarled, pushing the Pensieve away and lowering his wand. "And I have serious doubts he will ever master Legilimency."

Remus said nothing and only nodded curtly at Snape, which seemed to annoy Snape even more. 

"Fine. We begin." Snape crossed his arms and faced Harry, who pursed his lips and looked back expectantly. 

"Legilimency is the art of penetrating someone's mind in order to sense their thoughts and emotions. With Occlumency you have to close your mind, but with Legilimency you have to open it, and tune it to someone else's mind. Is that clear so far, Potter?"

Harry nodded dutifully. 

"You will need to make eye contact with the subject and you will need your wand while you cast the spell. Dumbledore and the Dark Lord are both sufficient enough at Legilimency that they no longer require their wands to cast the incantation, and it is expected of you, Potter, that you reach that level as well, although I strongly doubt you ever will. Still clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry sighed.

"We shall begin. Wand out." 

Harry reached for his wand and pointed it at Snape, who raised a curious eyebrow.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing, Potter?"

"Um...I'm going to penetrate your mind, sir," Harry said, just a bit cheekily. 

Snape snorted. "I'm an Occlumens, Potter. Hardly a fit subject for your first attempt. I daresay you'd have an easier time breaking into a Gringotts vault than managing to penetrate my mind."

"But how am I supposed to –"

"You will penetrate his mind," Snape said, smirking, and pointed a stained finger at Remus. "I'm sure Lupin has nothing to hide from you."

Remus briefly narrowed his eyes at Snape, but then nodded and stood up. "It's all right, Harry."

Swallowing, Harry stepped closer to Remus. He hadn't expected this and it made him nervous, to be peeking inside Remus' mind. He loved Remus, but the idea of sensing Remus' thoughts and emotions was unnerving. 

"Begin," Snape said from somewhere behind Harry. 

Harry raised his wand and stared into Remus' eyes, trying to open his own mind. It wasn't all that easy, since he'd spent his entire sixth year learning how to close it. Remus' light-brown eyes were calculated and guarded, and Harry gazed into them while he felt the familiar restraint on his own mind melt away. Remus had Moony's eyes, familiar eyes, calming eyes, loving eyes. 

"Legilimens," Harry said, and felt himself being sucked inside a dark void. For a moment he panicked, unsure what to do or where to turn, but then he heard voices whispering around him and images simmered in front of him. 

"I'm sorry, Remus. We never expected he would betray James and Lily," Dumbledore said, and Harry felt a cold fist clench around his heart, betrayal searing through his veins. 

Darkness, more voices, more whispers, more images. 

"I know I shouldn't feel this way about him, Remus," Sirius whispered, looking defeated. "He's my godson but I can't stop thinking about him in that way." Harry felt something bitter leak into his mind, and it took him a moment to realize he was feeling jealous. 

More darkness, whispers and images kept Harry trapped inside the void of Remus' mind. 

"Moony, please," Sirius said, trying to reach for Remus' arm, but Remus pulled back, disgusted. "I never thought he would actually do it. I never meant to get you in trouble. Fuck, I love you, Remus. Please don't push me away." Harry felt as if he couldn't breathe anymore, as if someone was choking him, and his entire body flared in pain. It hurt so much, so fucking much.

Darkness swallowed him once again until an unfamiliar voice filled Harry's head. 

"Remus, you're a coward," a deep, hoarse voice said in a thick Irish accent. "You'd rather betray your own kind than do what you know is right." 

"Enough!" someone yelled, and at once Harry was back inside Snape's office. He felt disoriented and lost his balance, falling on his arse while he buried his face in his hands. His scar throbbed faintly. 

"Well, well. It seems you actually managed to get it right, for once," Snape drawled. 

"Remus?" Harry gasped, glancing up.

"I'm fine," Remus whispered. But he didn't look fine. Remus sat in the chair, inhaling ragged breaths, his eyes closed tightly.

"I believe this is enough for now. Potter, practice opening and closing your mind at will. Learn to control it. I will see you both next week, and do try to be here on time." Snape opened his office door and swept into the corridor. 

Harry was at a loss of what to say or do. He'd been inside Remus' mind. He'd seen private things. And not only that, he had felt them as well. He'd felt how Remus had felt when those situations had occurred. And it made Harry feel extremely uncomfortable. 

Opening his eyes, Remus stared down at Harry for a moment, his face a guarded mask. Then he reached out his arms in a welcoming gesture, and Harry half-crawled and half-walked to Remus, throwing himself at the other man. 

"That was so weird," Harry whispered, burying his face against Remus' throat, feeling Remus' arms close around him. "I didn't like doing that at all."

"It was unusual, yes," Remus said and kissed Harry's cheek. "But you have to learn it. And I really don't mind helping you with it. It's okay, Harry."

Harry pulled back and looked at Remus before he pressed his lips to Remus' mouth, letting the familiar feel of it comfort him. 

"Wait," Remus said, and gently nudged Harry off his lap. He stood and kicked the door shut. "Best if no one sees us. Come here."

Harry wrapped his arms around Remus' neck and let Remus back him up against he closed door, their mouths locked in a bruising kiss. Harry felt his cock spring to life as Remus pressed his body against Harry's. It had been two days since he'd last had sex, and although Harry had wanked twice the previous day, he was in need of Remus' touch. Yes, he wished Sirius was there as well, but Remus was still much better than his own hand. He'd always thought sex would be good but he never imagined it would be this good and that he'd be wanting it, needing it, this much. 

"I want you," Harry whispered, running his hands down Remus' back. "Want to feel you inside me."

"Here?" Remus asked, curving an eyebrow. "In Snape's office?"

Harry grinned and nodded his head once, pressing his hard cock against Remus' equally aroused body. 

"Sirius will be so proud of us," Remus said with a teasing smile, licking Harry's bottom lip. "But we'll have to be quick."

"Hard and fast," Harry breathed. "I like that."

"I know you do. Turn around." Remus released Harry, and after Harry turned to face the door, Remus grabbed Harry's robes and pulled them up. "I want to taste you first. Get you ready for me, Harry." Remus dropped to his knees behind Harry, pulled Harry's boxers down and spread Harry's arse wide open. 

"Oh god, Remus," Harry gasped, feeling Remus' warm lips and moist tongue dance across his entrance. "That feels good." Harry spread his legs as far as he could, raising one foot briefly to pull off his boxers. Remus' tongue teased Harry's pucker into submission, stabbing against it and sliding inside. 

"I'm ready, please," Harry moaned. He was more than ready. The thought of having Remus fuck him in Snape's office was so arousing Harry thought his prick might burst if he touched it. 

Remus spit in his hand, moistened his cock and pressed the head against Harry's entrance. "Relax. I don't want to hurt you."

"Just do it...you won't hurt me...I want it hard." Harry leaned his forehead against the door, his hands beside his head, fingers spread against the rough wood. Remus thrust once and his prick slid inside a few inches. Swallowing, Harry released a groan and bucked back, forcing Remus' cock inside further. It felt raw, since Remus had hardly used any lubricant, but that didn't make it feel any less amazing. 

"Harry," Remus gasped, his arms tightening around Harry. "God, Harry."

"Yes, fuck...do it...fuck me," Harry breathed, rocking his arse back against Remus, feeling Remus' cock brush across his prostate. Remus pressed his mouth to Harry's throat and thrust once, burying his prick deep inside Harry, before pulling it out again and thrusting it back inside, hard. 

Harry knew he wouldn't last long, with Remus pounding against his prostate and biting down on his throat. He felt Remus' hand slide down his body to grab his prick and Harry bucked forward, eager to feel Remus fist his cock and stroke him to climax. 

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, yes, Remus, yes," Harry chanted and his sac drew up, forcing his release through his cock, and he came all over Snape's office door with a grunted sigh. Remus gave a few more sharp thrusts and climaxed quietly, biting down on Harry's throat so hard, Harry was sure it would leave a mark. 

"Love you," Harry breathed, sagging against the door. 

"Love you, too," Remus whispered and pressed soft kisses to the welts on Harry's throat. "And I can't believe I just fucked you in Snape's office."

Harry chuckled and turned his face to press his mouth to Remus', giving him a slow, sated kiss. 

"We'd best make ourselves presentable again," Remus said, pulling out of Harry gently. "I really don't feel like explaining this should Snape decide to return."

"Yeah," Harry agreed and bent down to pull up his boxers before straightening his robes. He turned and kissed Remus again, wanting to stay with Remus for the rest of the night, but he knew that wasn't an option. "God, I needed this," he said, giving Remus a tight hug. 

"How have you been doing, controlling your urges?" Remus asked, stroking Harry's cheek and pushing his glasses back up his nose. 

"As long as I can have regular sex with you and Sirius, I can control them well enough. I just don't want to think what would happen if I couldn't meet with either one of you every other day or so."

"In that case, you'd be doing a lot of wanking."

"Is that what you did when you were my age?" Harry asked, slowly letting go of Remus. 

"Before and after I was together with Sirius, yes, I wanked. A lot. Usually when I woke up, between classes in the toilets, and before I went to sleep. That was the only way I could concentrate on anything else."

"Wow," Harry said, his eyes widening before he narrowed them and gave Remus a teasing look. "That is a very arousing thought. You touching yourself in the toilets."

Remus grinned. "It was a necessity, nothing more. It was also a cause for embarrassment, since Sirius and your father caught me on more than one occasion."

Laughing, Harry gave Remus one final hug and then stepped back from him. "I suppose you should be going and I should get to bed," he said, a bit disappointed. 

"Yes. You'll see us again the day after tomorrow in the Shack. Meet us there at our usual time." Remus gave Harry a soft kiss, cleaned Harry's mess off Snape's door with a flick of his wand, and opened the door. 

"Say hi to Sirius for me," Harry said and picked up his bag. 

"I will. I'm sure he'll want to hear in great detail what we did in Snape's office." Remus followed Harry outside and together they walked to the entrance hall, making small talk about Harry's classes.

"See you soon, Harry." Remus smiled and stepped outside. 

"Bye," Harry said, and walked back to Gryffindor Tower, his arse pleasantly sore and his mind exhausted. He hardly said two words to his friends in the common room before hauling himself up the stairs and heading straight to bed, where it took him less than a minute to fall asleep.

*~*~*~*~*

"Have you got a minute, Harry? There's something I want to show you," Ron said the next evening, right after Quidditch practice.

"Sure," Harry replied, pulling on his robes and trying to straighten his shower-damp hair. "What is it?"

"You'll see. I'm sure you'll like it." Ron gave him a wide grin and Harry shrugged, but his curiosity was piqued. 

They walked back inside the castle, leaning their broomsticks on their shoulders and talking about how practice had gone. 

"I think we've got a really strong team now," Ron said, giving Harry a hopeful look. "We have a good shot at beating Slytherin in November."

Not a chance in hell without a Seeker, Harry thought, but he nodded anyway. He'd tried to think of a way to find a substitute Chaser, so Ginny could fill in as Seeker for one match, but he couldn't look for someone without having to give a reason why he needed a replacement for that game. And he couldn't think of any reasons that wouldn't give away his secret. They were doomed, and only he knew it. 

"I can't wait to beat Malfoy's scrawny arse," Ron said viciously. Harry nodded again. He wished they could beat Malfoy, and part of him still wanted to play in that match desperately. But he'd promised Remus and Sirius he wouldn't, and he really didn't want to break his promise. 

Ron led him up the stairs and finally they stopped in front of the Room of Requirement. Harry blinked and looked at Ron, puzzled. 

"Just go inside," Ron said, smiling brightly and reaching for Harry's Firebolt. "I'll take your broom back. You just have a good time."

And before Harry could respond, Ron turned and hurried down the corridor. Thinking Ron had gone mad, Harry wanted to turn and go back to Gryffindor Tower as well, but he didn't. Ron had apparently set something up for him and Harry was rather curious to see what it was. 

Shrugging, he grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open. He was greeted by the sight of a dimly-lit room, a lush carpet on the floor, a large fireplace near the wall, and a massive bed in the centre of the room. 

"Hullo, Harry."

A shadowy figure strolled across the room and Harry was already reaching for his wand when he recognized who it was. 

"Zacharias?"

"Yeah. Did you expect someone else?" Zacharias stopped in front of Harry, grabbed his shoulder to pull him inside and closed the door behind them. 

"Um...I hadn't expected anyone," Harry said, feeling uncomfortable with Zacharias' proximity. Not to mention that hand on his shoulder. Harry didn't like it when people touched him like that, save for the two men he trusted and loved above anything else. 

"Ron told me you were looking for someone," Zacharias whispered, moving in on Harry and effectively backing him up against the wall. 

"I'm not looking...Ron told you what?"

"That you prefer blokes. That's okay. I do as well."

And then Zacharias pressed his lips to Harry's roughly, putting one hand on Harry's chest and the other one on the back of Harry's neck. Harry froze. Part of him wanted to deck Zacharias, and another part of him just wanted to pull himself free and run away. Not one part of him wanted to be kissed by Zacharias, though. 

When Zacharias pressed his body against Harry's, and Harry felt that Zacharias was hard, his body finally sprang into action and he shoved Zacharias away. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Zacharias looked at him as if Harry had grown a second head. "What do you mean, what am I doing? I thought you wanted a shag. That's what Weasley told me, anyway."

"Oh for..." Harry shook his head. "I don't want a shag. I don't want anything but for people to leave me alone." And with that, Harry turned and hurried out of the room. 

He ran down the stairs and around the corner and bumped into something solid, which sent him flying back. He fell to the floor, his head colliding painfully against the hard surface. 

"Harry!"

Two strong hands hauled him up again and Harry blinked while he stared at a freckled face. 

"Ron, you bastard!" Harry punched against Ron's shoulder weakly. 

"Harry, it's Bill."

"Um...okay, you can let go of me then, so I can go and kill your brother," Harry said, trying to pull away from Bill's firm grip. 

"What happened? What did Ron do?" Bill let go of Harry's robes and Harry took a step back, trying to get his body to stop trembling. 

"He set me up with a bloke," Harry said, and at Bill's confused look he added, "But I didn't want to be set up."

"Ah." Bill nodded and was obviously trying not to smile. "Would you care for a cuppa, Harry?"

Harry thought for a moment. If he went back to Gryffindor Tower now, he might really hurt Ron, if not physically then verbally. He was still far too pissed off to be reasonable. Perhaps a chat with Bill would be a good idea. 

"All right," he said stiffly. Bill smiled and led the way to his office. 

Bill made tea with a flick of his wand while Harry sank down in one of the chairs, releasing a heavy sigh.

"Here you go," Bill said, and put a steaming cup of tea down in front of Harry. He didn't move to sit down, though, and when Harry glanced up he noticed that Bill was staring at him oddly. 

"What?" Harry asked, feeling self-conscious with Bill's eyes fixed on him. 

"I'm going to ask you a question, and I hope you'll be honest," Bill said, a serious frown tugging on his brow. Harry nodded, not sure what Bill was after. "Are you seeing Remus Lupin?"

"Am I what? No! I'm not seeing anyone," Harry said, lowering his trembling hand. If he picked up his tea now, he'd probably spill it all over Bill's desk. 

"Harry, I'm not stupid." Bill reached for Harry's collar and pulled it down an inch or so. "That mark isn't more than a day old. And Snape told me this morning that he'd been entertaining Lupin and you in his office last night. Plus, you were reading a book on the sexual behaviour of werewolves on the train. It's kind of obvious."

Harry opened his mouth, but closed it again when he couldn't think of a reply. This was...not the way he'd expected things to go. Still, all Bill suspected was that Harry was sleeping with Remus. Not that Harry was, in fact, a werewolf himself. Things could have been a whole lot worse. 

"I just want to know if he's using you." Bill let go of Harry and rounded his desk to sit down. "Tell me he doesn't hurt you and that you're okay with it."

"I'm okay with it," Harry whispered. There was no point denying it, he supposed. And if he gave Bill a little bit of the truth, it would hopefully satisfy Bill's curiosity. "He's not using me. We've been together since my birthday."

"All right." Bill added a lump of sugar to his tea and stirred it, looking at Harry thoughtfully. "I assume Sirius knows?"

Boy, does he ever, Harry thought, and he fought back a grin. "Yeah, he knows. He's okay with it."

"I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into," Bill said and let out a sigh. "Associating with a werewolf can get you into a lot of trouble with the Ministry."

"That doesn't matter," Harry snapped, heat rising to his cheeks. "It doesn't matter that Remus is a werewolf, for fuck's sake. If I love him, that's enough!"

Bill arched an eyebrow and tilted his head, regarding Harry curiously. "Can you honestly say it doesn't bother you that your boyfriend turns into a violent beast once a month?"

Harry put his elbows on the desk and leaned forward, meeting Bill's gaze. "I can," he said, and he meant it. "I know who Remus is and I know what Remus is, and I understand what it's like for him. I don't think you can say the same."

"You're right. I can't." Bill lowered his gaze and picked up his cup. "So, what did Ron do that has you ready to kill him?"

Harry shrugged and stared down at his tea. Bill's words had hurt him. He'd often heard people talk about werewolves like that, but it had never affected him personally before. "Ron set me up with this Hufflepuff bloke. He kissed me, so I shoved him away. I didn't want it," he muttered and finally trusted his hands enough to pick up his cup and take a sip. 

"I'm sure Ron meant well," Bill said mildly. 

"That's not the point. I told him I didn't want him to set me up with anyone."

"Why don't you tell him you're seeing Remus?" Bill's gaze was almost daring. 

Harry glared back at him. "We've decided to keep it quiet until I finish Hogwarts."

"Because he's a werewolf?"

"I don't need this," Harry snarled and shoved his chair back roughly. "You don't know anything. Just leave me -- us -- alone."

"Harry..." Bill tried, but Harry felt too choked up to reply. He gave Bill one last glare and stormed out of his office, seething. 

Harry didn't think he'd ever felt this angry before. And it wasn't just anger, it was rage that burned through his body. It was the protective urge he felt for Remus combined with the horrible feeling of being driven into a corner, of being threatened, like the way he'd felt when Zacharias had pushed him against the wall, only a hundred times worse.

He didn't understand it. People -- no, not just people, Bill Weasley -- condemning Remus, condemning Harry, because of a curse they could do nothing about.

By the time Harry reached Gryffindor Tower, his vision was blurry and his mind was spinning. He felt as if he needed to kill something. As soon as the portrait creaked open, he burst inside the common room and located Ron sitting near the fire. 

"Hey mate," Ron said with a grin. "Did you have –"

"If you ever do that again, I swear I will beat you into a pulp," Harry snarled, glowering over Ron. "What part of I don't want you to set me up with anyone don't you understand? Fuck this. I don't need any of it."

The whole common room had fallen quiet, and everyone, including Ron, was staring at Harry with wide eyes. Before anyone could respond, Harry stomped up the stairs to his dormitory. 

Neville sat on his bed, playing with one of his plants. He looked up as Harry stormed inside. 

"Get out," Harry snarled. 

"What?"

"Get out!"

Clutching the plant to his chest, Neville scrambled to his feet and fled. Harry slammed the door shut behind him and cast the strongest locking and silencing charms he knew. Then he reached under his pillow and grabbed his mirror. He activated it but there came no reply. 

"Sirius!" he yelled at the glass. "Remus!"

Nothing. 

Harry pressed his hand against the glass again, his entire body shaking. "Come on, come on. Sirius! Remus!"

"Harry?" Sirius' face came into view. "What's wrong?" Then he turned and called, "Moony, get down here!"

"Bill knows and Ron set me up and this bloke kissed me and Bill said stuff about werewolves and –"

"Harry, calm down!"

"I'm going mad," Harry said, in a moment of clarity. "I swear, I'm going bonkers."

"Moony!" Sirius called again, and looked at Harry, seemingly at a loss what to say. He swallowed. "Meet us in the Shack. Now. Be careful."

The mirror went blank. 

"Bugger," Harry said, and shoved the mirror under his pillow again before he pulled his invisibility cloak out of his trunk.


	5. Chapter 4

By the time Harry reached the secret passageway to the Shrieking Shack, he was out of breath. He'd passed his housemates in the common room quietly, safely tucked away under his invisibility cloak, and then he'd run the rest of the way. Even when he slipped inside the narrow passageway, he didn't slow down, but moved as quickly as he could. 

The moment he burst through the trapdoor, two strong hands grabbed him and Harry wrapped his arms around Sirius, burying his face in Sirius' robes. His body wouldn't stop shaking, no matter how soothing Sirius' touches were or how many soft, comforting words Sirius whispered into his ear. 

"What happened, Harry?" Remus ran his fingers down Harry's cheek and then rubbed the back of his neck. 

Harry swallowed, and swallowed again, and then cleared his throat. His skin felt as if it was too tight for his body and he clutched at Sirius. "Ron...set me up with a bloke."

"With whom?" Sirius asked, eyes narrowing.

"Zacharias Smith. He touched me and pressed me against the wall and kissed me."

"Sirius, calm down," Remus said, and when Harry glanced up he saw that Sirius looked ready to kill. 

"It wasn't his fault. Ron had told him I wanted a shag," Harry said quietly.

"All right. I won't kill him, then. Maybe just maim him a bit." Sirius' lips curved into a smile and Harry tried to return it. "What did you say about Bill?"

"Ah, bugger," Harry sighed. "He figured out I'm sleeping with Remus."

"Really?" Remus' eyebrows shot up. 

"Yeah. And he said all these things about werewolves. Made me so bloody angry." Harry pressed his face against Sirius' chest, his glasses digging into his cheeks uncomfortably.

"It will be all right, Harry," Sirius whispered, nuzzling Harry's hair briefly. "Did you ever get this angry, Moony? I can't remember you having such trouble with your control."

Remus kept stroking the back of Harry's neck, something that made Harry feel a bit more relaxed. "I was six when I got infected. I had a lot more time to learn to deal with it before those pesky teenage hormones struck."

"I'm not going back," Harry muttered. 

"Harry," Sirius said, cupping Harry's chin and forcing him to look up. "You have to go back."

"What's the point? That I finish school? It's not like I'll ever be able to get a job or anything."

Both Sirius and Remus stayed quiet and glanced at each other. 

"And what with Voldemort after me, it will be a bloody miracle if I even live to see twenty. There's no point in going back there. I'd rather just be with you two." Harry could see Sirius' resolve crumble as Sirius looked at him thoughtfully. 

"Let go of him," Remus said to Sirius. "Harry, kneel."

"What?" Harry wanted to pull Sirius close again, but Sirius took a determined step away from him. 

"You will do as we say. Kneel." Remus' eyes narrowed and Harry felt something stir in the pit of his stomach. Something hot yet calming, and he gave Remus a nod before he lowered himself to the floor. 

"Hands behind your back and open your mouth." Remus' voice was soft but it demanded obedience. Harry didn't think twice and did exactly as Remus told him. 

"Good." Remus looked at Sirius, who gave him a nod and then they both reached for their robes. Harry expected them to shed their garments, but they only pulled a few buttons open, just enough so they could take out their cocks. Sirius was half-hard and stroked himself to a full erection, blue eyes gleaming and fixed on Harry's. 

Harry looked at Remus, who ran a finger over the head of his hard prick. He wanted to swallow, but he didn't want to go against Remus' command, so he kept his mouth opened and gazed longingly at the exposed cocks of his lovers. 

"You're going to suck us both," Remus whispered. Harry nodded. He wanted to suck them. Taste them. Being at their mercy made him forget about his previous anger and desperation. Sirius closed in on him, nudging the head of his cock against Harry's lips, closely followed by Remus, who aligned his prick with Sirius'. 

A tiny moan escaped Harry's mouth when both men slid their cocks past his lips and his mouth was suddenly filled with warm, pulsing flesh. They stretched his mouth almost painfully, but it was the good kind of pain. The kind of pain that made Harry aware of that very moment and that made him forget about how miserable he'd felt only minutes before. Sirius had one hand buried in Remus' hair, his head leaning against Remus', and his other hand rested on top of Harry's head, holding him still so both he and Remus could thrust inside his mouth completely. 

Harry swallowed around their cocks and licked the underside, first Sirius' and then Remus'. He tried to keep his teeth away from their sensitive flesh as much as he could, only letting them graze across the soft skin every so often. He heard Sirius' breathing speed up and he felt Sirius' fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at him gently. Remus kept silent, his eyes narrowed in concentration and his jaw clenched. Harry wished he could touch himself, but his hands were still clasped behind his back, just as Remus had ordered, and he couldn't beg his lovers for his own release with both their cocks driving in and out of his mouth. 

"Almost there," Sirius moaned, and Harry saw Remus' Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. "Suck harder, Harry." Sirius guided Harry's head while Harry complied and sucked as hard as he could around both cocks, feeling bitter drops leak teasingly onto his tongue. 

But just as Harry saw Sirius stiffen and felt his cock throb inside his mouth, Sirius pulled back and fisted his prick fast. Remus did the same, and Harry realized what would come. Literally. 

They were going to come on his face. That thought sent a surge of arousal down Harry's body straight to his cock, and he wanted to touch himself so badly, but before he could voice a plea, warm seed covered his face. Sirius came with a grunt, his release tainting Harry's nose and cheeks and mouth. Harry licked his lips lazily and was rewarded with more semen spurting across his face when Remus climaxed. 

Sirius and Remus exchanged a quick glance, and then Remus pulled Harry onto his feet while Sirius dropped to his knees. 

"Do you want to come?" Remus asked softly, darting his tongue out to lick a drop of semen off Harry's bottom lip. "Do you want to come inside Sirius' mouth?"

"Please," Harry moaned, flicking the tip of his tongue out to meet Remus', but Remus had other plans. He cupped the back of Harry's neck and licked across Harry's face. Then he offered his semen-covered tongue to Harry, who sucked it into his mouth greedily. 

Sirius pulled Harry's robes open just enough so he could pull Harry's boxers down and grab Harry's aching cock. Harry groaned as Sirius swallowed him down and an expert tongue began to torture his prick. 

Between Remus feeding him their release by calculated strokes of his tongue and Sirius sucking furiously around his cock, Harry didn't last more than a minute before he grabbed hold of Remus' arm to support himself while he came inside Sirius' mouth with a cry. 

Trembling, Harry watched as Sirius swallowed his release and gave his cock an affectionate lick before getting up. Remus pulled off Harry's glasses and cleaned them with a flick of his wand. 

"Feel better?" Sirius asked, tucking Harry's spent prick away and deftly buttoning up his robes. 

"Much," Harry said, grinning. Remus slid Harry's glasses back on and gave him a smile. 

"I thought you might need that," Remus said. 

"You have no idea," Harry sighed. Remus curved an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe you do," Harry quickly added with an embarrassed smile. 

Sirius snickered and pulled Harry into a hug. "We told you we'd be there for you. We meant that."

"I know," Harry muttered, leaning his weight against Sirius in a comfortable embrace. "Can we stay here for a while longer?"

"Harry..." Remus started. 

"Please. Just for a bit." At the thought of having to return to the castle, Harry felt as if his stomach was suddenly filled with a ton of bricks. 

Sirius didn't say anything but dragged Harry with him to the other end of the room where a dusty couch stood against the wall. He pushed Harry down on it and settled beside him. Remus sat down on Harry's other side and Harry let out a satisfied sigh. 

"We'll stay for a bit, but only if you tell us what happened," Sirius said, trying to look stern. It wasn't a look that agreed with him and Harry chuckled, causing Sirius to give up and break out in a grin. 

"I already told you what happened." Harry shrugged, wanting to forget about the whole situation now that he was with his lovers again. 

"Yes, you did. But we want to know what really got you so upset," Remus said, putting his hand on Harry's knee and rubbing it. 

Harry shrugged again, leaning back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling. "I just didn't feel good."

"You were lonely," Remus whispered, his voice tainted with an odd distance while he looked away. Harry nodded, but before he could reply Sirius interrupted him. 

"Don't worry about that. Moony was like that as well. He cried about it, too."

"I was eleven!" Remus glared at Sirius, who happily smiled back. 

"You were still the only one who cried that night."

"Our first night," Remus said, clearly offended. "And it wasn't as if you were all particularly sociable at that time."

"I thought you were an odd boy. Too quiet. I wasn't used to kids being quiet," Sirius said, and then reached over Harry's head to ruffle Remus' hair. "But I wised up, didn't I?" 

Remus snorted, and Harry, who had been watching their exchange with great interest and amusement, laughed. 

They stayed silent for a while, Harry nestled between their warm, comforting bodies and trying not to think about what had happened earlier and that sooner or later he'd have to go back and confront it. 

"I was an ass to Ron," he finally said, more to himself than to Sirius and Remus. 

"Then suck it up and apologize to him," Sirius said flatly. Remus gave Sirius a curious look but seemed to decide it wasn't worth commenting on. 

"Yeah, I suppose. I snapped at Neville, too. And at Bill. I was a complete ass this evening."

"They'll get over it, and so will you." Sirius pulled Harry against him, pressing a kiss to Harry's head. "You'll get better at it. At controlling it. Right, Moony?"

"Right," Remus said. Harry leaned against Remus for a moment, nuzzling his shoulder and inhaling his familiar, soothing scent. Remus stroked his thigh in response and then withdrew his hand. "It's time to go."

Harry nodded. Remus got up first, and then Sirius, and Harry looked up at them, already missing the feeling of their bodies against his own. 

"We'll see you again tomorrow, Harry," Sirius said, and pulled Harry to his feet. "Now stop worrying, get some sleep and things will look better in the morning."

"Be careful," Remus said and gave Harry a kiss. Sirius kissed him as well, and then Harry picked up his invisibility cloak and looked at both men one last time before he lowered himself through the trapdoor.

*~*~*~*~*

Things did look better the next morning. At least until Harry opened the curtains around his bed and saw Ron staring at him with narrowed eyes and a tight expression.

"Ron," Harry started, but Ron turned away from him and made to leave for the bathroom. 

"Ron, I'm sorry, all right?" Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and hoped Ron would accept his apology. He really didn't want to have to deal with a pissed-off best friend as well. 

Ron paused, his back still turned to Harry. 

"Can we just...maybe...talk?" Harry asked softly, unsure how to handle the situation. Whenever he or Ron had got angry at each other in the past, something had always come up that brought them back together again. But Harry could hear Sirius' advice in his mind. Suck it up and apologize. 

"About what?" Ron glanced at Harry over his shoulder. 

"About me being a complete ass last night," Harry offered. "I'm not sorry for getting angry, because you shouldn't have set me up with Smith like that. He cornered me and I –"

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Ron turned around, facing Harry, his expression still filled with anger, but Harry could tell it wasn't directed at him anymore. 

Harry snorted. "No, he didn't. As if he could. But the situation was a tad overwhelming."

Ron sat down on his own bed and looked at Harry with a frown. "I thought you fancied a shag."

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Because you looked downright miserable when I talked about shagging Luna on the train. And you've been alone all summer. You didn't even come to Diagon Alley with us before school started."

Lowering his gaze, Harry pulled at a thread on his blanket. He hadn't joined them in Diagon Alley because it had been the day of the full moon. Remus had bought his school supplies the week before. Of course, he couldn't explain that to Ron. 

"Dumbledore thought it wasn't safe for me to go to Diagon Alley," Harry whispered, glancing up at Ron again. "And I haven't been alone all summer. Sirius and Remus were there the whole time."

Ron snorted. Harry felt a sharp pang rise in his chest at that obvious dismissal. 

"No offence, mate, but you were stuck inside that gloomy house all summer with someone who's spent one too many years in Azkaban and a werewolf. You've been acting strange ever since school started."

Harry was on his feet instantly and he forced himself not to yell. "Oh, so this is about werewolves now, is it?"

"No," Ron said, his voice betraying his irritation. "But you were stuck with one, a real one, for half the summer."

"Or is this about your family not thinking Sirius is capable of taking care of me? I know what your mum thinks of him. No need to rub that in my face again."

"Leave my mum out of this," Ron said, also rising to his feet. 

"Then leave Sirius and Remus out of it as well!"

"What is your problem?" Ron threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. 

"My problem is I have a lot on my mind. Voldemort, mostly, and learning how to defend myself against him. I don't have time for stupid shags."

"Maybe you should try it. Might loosen you up a bit," Ron said, just a tad too viciously.

"Not everyone solves their problems by sticking their cocks someplace tight and hot, Ron." Harry could practically hear Sirius laughing at that outright lie.

"And not everyone is too busy to spend a bit of time with their friends, Harry," Ron shot back, but most of the venom had left his voice. Harry raised his eyebrows. "We've hardly seen you all week," Ron added, his shoulders slumped. 

"It's only been a week. And I'm busy with other things besides school. How many times do I have to say that?"

"Yeah, well. We don't have to like it," Ron said quietly. 

"But you also don't have to take it out on me or try to get me a shag. I can take care of the latter very well on my own, thanks ever so much." Harry softened his tone with a smile. 

"What? You had sex? When? How?" Ron's eyes were round and looked both curious and horrified. 

"Not as such," Harry muttered. "I'm just saying that if I wanted a shag, I can handle it on my own."

Ron nodded and Harry nodded as well. They seemed to have reached an understanding. 

"Are you quite done?" Neville asked, watching them from his bed. "I'd like to take a shower now or else I'll be late for breakfast."

Harry had forgotten about Neville. "Sorry about snapping at you last night," he said, smiling apologetically.

"That's all right." Neville got up and padded across the room. "I know you have a lot on your mind."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, and looked at Ron again. Ron regarded him for a moment and then punched Harry's upper arm. Harry recognized it for what it was: an affectionate gesture to signal that things were back to normal. He followed his two roommates into the bathroom for a shower and a shave.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry managed to apologize to Bill the next morning after their Defence against the Dark Arts class, and after that things went back to normal. Well, as normal as it would ever be for Harry that year. Between his classes, his homework, Quidditch practice, his Legilimency lessons with Snape and his meetings with Sirius and Remus in the Shack about every other night, time flew and soon enough the full moon was about to rise again.

"Sirius, take out your wand," Remus said. Sirius sighed but reached inside his robes to do as Remus had told him.

"You took the potion," Sirius muttered.

"Yes we did, but I don't want you to take unnecessary risks with us," Remus said, his tone patient. Sirius shrugged in response, and that seemed to be the end of their exchange. 

Leaning against Remus' naked body, Harry watched Sirius roll his wand between his palms as he regarded them from the other end of the Shack's living room. Harry could feel the full moon rise outside. It pulled on him, slow and gentle at first, like someone teasingly pulling his hair, but it soon became more urgent and more violent, like someone burrowing their fingers under his skin and trying to rip his innards out. 

"Don't fight it," Remus whispered, his eyes closed and tiny beads of sweat shining on his forehead. Harry nodded, tightening his grip on Remus' arm. He knew after two transformations that it was best not to fight it, but every cell in his body screamed to resist. 

And then the pain struck, knocking Harry to the floor while his body convulsed under the strain of bones breaking and skin tearing. He heard someone scream and it could very well have been him, but he was in too much pain to focus on that. His skull morphed, his teeth elongated and thick hair sprouted across his entire body. 

As suddenly as it had begun, the pain subsided, and Harry was left panting against the wooden floorboards. The colours had returned, the wonderful colours that tickled his nose and teased his mind. Harry opened his eyes and saw Moony staring down at him. He smiled and wagged his tail before he felt a cold nose nudge against his muzzle. Padfoot smiled down at him, his long, bushy tail moving furiously. 

Harry scrambled to his feet, licked Padfoot's nose, pushed his muzzle under Moony's chin and darted towards the trapdoor. Remus and Sirius had promised him a trip to the Forbidden Forest, like they'd always done when they'd still been in school, and Harry was eager to run with Moony and Padfoot. 

Padfoot led the way and Harry trotted behind him with Moony on his heels. They emerged from under the Whomping Willow and Harry wanted to stop and stare at the moon, the beautiful full moon, but Moony nudged him forward towards the forest. And then they were running, Moony up front, and Harry and Padfoot side by side chasing Moony. Harry's long legs carried him effortlessly around the trees and across the dense undergrowth, and Harry felt like he was flying. 

In Grimmauld Place, there was only the enclosed yard to play in during the full moon, which didn't come close to running through the Forbidden Forestar  
, with all its new colours and scents that lit up the darkness like candles on a Christmas tree.

They ran for what felt like hours, with only the full moon and countless colours for company. But then Harry noticed a trail that made him slow down. It was too beautiful to ignore and Harry felt compelled to lower his nose to it. The small blots of colour lit up like silver in the darkness and they smelled like spring rain, like peach blossom, like innocence. Harry looked up and cocked his head at Moony, a silent question if he was allowed to follow the trail. Moony answered by taking the lead, his nose lowered and fixed on the silver blotches. Padfoot bit Harry's neck playfully but Harry was too fascinated by the new scent to accept his offer to play. He followed Moony in a steady trot and heard Padfoot sigh and follow them into an even denser part of the dark forest. 

Moony stopped and lowered himself to the ground, ears perked up and eyes fixed on something in the distance. Harry halted beside him and followed his example, pressing his body to the forest soil. There were silver shapes moving between the trees, and as they drew closer Harry recognized them. A small herd of unicorns. Three adults and one foal. Their light bodies stood out against the dark background, and Harry raised his head to sniff the air. It was filled with that sweet smell of innocence and for some reason it had a calming effect on Harry's lupine mind. 

Harry knew instinctively that Moony had picked a good spot to observe the unicorns. Moony and he were downwind and the thick undergrowth hid their bodies from view. The unicorns seemed unaware of the predators lurking in the shadows, until a large, black shape came barging through the trees, barking madly and charging after the unicorns, who fled in a wild gallop. 

His lupine instincts taking over, Harry was on his feet and in pursuit of the unicorns instantly. He felt compelled to chase them even though he had no intention of hurting them. But they were moving so fast and it felt so good to run after them with Padfoot by his side and Moony close behind. 

But then a new scent mingled with the silver blotches. Pulsing golden-brown spots stained the forest around them, and Padfoot came to a sudden halt. Harry kept running, still overwhelmed with the need to chase, until he saw tall figures lingering between the trees, some of them carrying crossbows. Harry yipped and was unable to stop until he bumped against the hard forelegs of one of the centaurs. He heard Moony howl in the distance, an urgent call to return to him, and Harry turned around as fast as he could, fleeing the centaur herd. 

Moony led them to a small clearing and Harry looked around, sniffing the air to make sure the centaurs hadn't followed them. But they were alone and Harry allowed himself to relax. 

"Now that was fun." 

Harry turned and saw Sirius sitting on a tree trunk, looking at them with a wide grin. Trotting over, Harry cocked his head and wondered why Sirius had transformed. 

"I wanted to see you with these eyes, Blue," Sirius said and scratched Harry's ears. It felt great and Harry leaned into Sirius' touch. He understood what Sirius meant by looking at him with his human eyes. Things did look differently through canine eyes, after all. 

"You're beautiful," Sirius whispered, and Harry rubbed his head against Sirius' thigh, needing Sirius' scent on him and leaving some of his own scent behind on his pack member. He inhaled and noticed that Sirius smelled stronger than he usually did, more enticing and welcome and Harry let his nose lead him to Sirius' crotch. Sirius was aroused, Harry concluded and he felt his own body respond to the strong scent of Sirius' hardening cock. 

Harry nudged his nose against Sirius' crotch urgently. He wanted to taste Sirius, wanted to know how Sirius' flesh and semen would taste in his wolf form, but Sirius gently pushed Harry's head away. 

"I think two werewolves in the family is enough, Blue," Sirius said. Harry stared down and wanted to kick himself for once again forgetting about infectious saliva and semen. That ignorance was what had landed him in this situation in the first place. 

"Go have fun with Moony. I don't mind watching." Sirius leaned back against a tree and reached down to undo his robes. Harry cocked his head curiously and then glanced over his shoulder at Moony, who was watching them with narrowed eyes.

"I think Blue has a little problem you might be able to help him with, Moony," Sirius said, and Harry heard him take his prick out and stroke it lazily. That sound aroused him even more and he trotted towards Moony, wagging his low tail slowly. 

Moony pushed against Harry's shoulder and Harry lay down and rolled onto his back, submitting himself and inviting Moony to take a closer look at his hard cock. Moony licked his nose and sniffed his way down Harry's furry belly until he reached Harry's engorged flesh. Harry let his long legs fall open and whined when Moony licked across his cock. 

Harry stared up at the dark sky, his eyes fixed on the bright moon, listening to the sound of Sirius' hand moving over his prick and letting the feeling of Moony's tongue licking his cock push him closer and closer to the edge, until he burst into orgasm, his legs jerking and his release spurting across his belly. Moony licked it all up and nuzzled Harry's snout. Harry rolled over onto his side and saw Moony get down on his back, exposing a familiar erection. Eagerly, Harry scrambled to his feet and licked Moony's cock, just as he'd done so many times during the summer holiday before the curse prevented him from being with Moony while in his human form. 

Sirius' breaths were heavy and ragged, and Harry watched him as he licked Moony to climax. Sirius came a second before Moony and Harry licked up Moony's release while he watched Sirius milk his prick. As soon as Moony got to his feet, Harry hurried over to Sirius and pushed his wet nose against Sirius' hand, resisting the urge to lick Sirius' prick clean. Sirius smiled and offered Harry his hand, and Harry licked the drops of semen off, sighing contentedly. Sirius tasted strong and delicious, and Harry took his time swirling his tongue between Sirius' fingers and across his palm to savour every last drop he could find. 

"We'd best go back," Sirius said, buttoning himself up. Harry shook his fur and briefly wished they could stay there, even if that meant he'd have to stay in his wolf form. Being a wolf wasn't that bad. Changing back to his human form was hell, though

Moony threw his head back and howled and Harry answered him. Padfoot joined in and for a few moments they reconfirmed their bond and their connection to the moon. Then Moony took off and Harry followed him, letting his large paws carry him swiftly through the forest and back to civilization.

The moment they reached the secret passageway, Padfoot transformed into Sirius and led the way. Inside the Shack, Sirius ushered both Moony and Harry up the stairs to the bedroom they always used. Harry could already feel the pull of the descending moon, could feel his human body starting to struggle to regain control over his wolf again. 

He jumped up on the bed and lay down. Moony joined him and licked his muzzle lovingly while they waited for the inevitable. 

The pain struck again and Harry's howls turned to screams as his body transformed violently. Morphing back into human form lasted longer than changing into a wolf, perhaps because Harry's human side hadn't stopped fighting the infection while he'd been in wolf form and was already exhausted even before he changed back completely. 

This time, the pain didn't disappear but turned into a dull throb under Harry's skin and in his joints as he gasped for breath. 

"Come on, Harry. In you go." Harry felt Sirius' strong hands pull him under the covers, and he winced at the contact. Everything felt sore and even Sirius' kind touch was unwelcome at that point. Remus joined him under the blankets and Harry curled around him, his eyes still squeezed shut in an attempt to block the pain. 

"Sleep," Sirius said as he slipped under the covers and pressed his naked body against Harry's back. Harry relaxed, lying safely between his lovers' bodies, and despite the pain he fell into a deep sleep. 

Still exhausted, Harry woke sometime later to the sound of hushed voices. Harry blinked his eyes open and looked at Remus, but Remus still seemed asleep. 

"Are you in need of Poppy's assistance?"

Harry knew that voice and he peered over the covers to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway.

"No," Sirius said beside Harry. "They're fine. Just tired."

Dumbledore nodded, and Harry wondered what the headmaster must be thinking; the three of them were lying in bed together, after all, with Harry squeezed between Remus' and Sirius' naked bodies. But either Dumbledore didn't notice, which Harry doubted, or he didn't care, because he didn't mention their sleeping arrangements. 

"Harry is excused from his classes for the rest of the day. I've told his professors and his friends he had extracurricular lessons that are keeping him busy. I do expect him back in Gryffindor Tower before tonight's curfew."

"All right. I'll tell him."

"Good. Severus told me to give these to both Harry and Remus. I believe these are vials of Pepperup and a pain-killing potion."

Harry saw Dumbledore move closer and he quickly closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. He didn't feel like talking to the headmaster just now, with his mind and body still weak. 

"I'll make sure they'll take them."

"Then I'll leave you to rest. Good day, Sirius."

"Good day, Albus."

When he heard Dumbledore walk down the stairs, Harry opened his eyes again and saw Remus looking back at him with a faint smile. Harry looked over his shoulder at Sirius, who slid back under the covers and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist. 

"You look like you've been chased by a herd of centaurs," Sirius whispered, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Harry's mouth. "Oh, wait, you were chased by a herd of centaurs," he added with a grin, and Harry snorted but felt too tired to come up with a snippy reply. 

"Do you want the potions now?" Sirius asked, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look at both Harry and Remus. 

"What I want is for you to shut up so we can get some more sleep," Remus said hoarsely, and Harry nodded his agreement. 

"What? No wild sex? No double penetration? No tying one of you to the bed while he gets fucked on both sides?" 

Harry groaned when he felt his limp prick give an interested twitch at Sirius' words. He really didn't want to be thinking about sex at that moment, let alone do it. 

"Sleep," he muttered, snuggling closer to Remus. 

"Oh, all right." Sirius let out a deep, mock-disappointed sigh and dropped his head to the pillow. "Sleep it is." 

When Harry woke up again, it was to the feeling of lips pressing kisses to his shoulder. Yawning, he rolled onto his back and saw through the cracks in the boarded-up windows that it was dark outside. 

"Good evening," Sirius said and continued kissing Harry's throat. 

"Hmm," was all the sound Harry could make. Beside him, Remus stirred and snapped his eyes open. As he looked at Harry and Sirius, he seemed to relax and he gave them a lazy smile. 

"Thirsty?" Sirius asked. Both Harry and Remus nodded. As Sirius reached for his bag on the floor beside the bed, Harry tried to sit up. His muscles protested fiercely and he gritted his teeth while he pushed himself up against the headboard. Remus followed his example and Sirius handed them both a bottle of water before uncapping one for himself. They drank in silence; both Remus and Harry swallowed half their bottles in a few large gulps. Somehow the transformation made a person incredibly thirsty, Harry had learned. 

"Hungry? I made some sandwiches yesterday." Sirius dug into his bag again. Harry felt his stomach turn at the thought of food and he made a face, shaking his head. 

"Padfoot, you should really learn to stop trying to shove food down my throat after a transformation. I never have an appetite after I transform, and neither does Harry, I'm sure," Remus chided mildly and took another gulp of water. 

"Which makes no sense at all, since your metabolism works faster because of the infection." Sirius pulled out a sandwich for himself, took a bite, and chewed thoughtfully. 

Remus shrugged, but Harry frowned. It didn't make any sense, he realized. He'd lost weight since he'd been infected, even though he was eating more on the whole, just not during the four days after the full moon. It did explain why Remus was still so wiry, even though Sirius provided him with plenty to eat these days. Harry suspected it was his fate to stay thin for the rest of his life, as well. Not that it bothered him, since he'd always been thin. 

"Drink these." Sirius pressed two small vials in Harry's hand and then handed another two to Remus. "Compliments of Snivellus."

Harry downed the Pepperup first, then the pain-killing potion, and washed the foul taste away with a large gulp of water. The potions had a most peculiar effect on him; the Pepperup cleared his mind while the pain-killing potion numbed his body. He looked up at Sirius with a droopy smile. 

Sirius grinned and ruffled Harry's hair. "I assume those potions work?" 

"Yeah," Harry sighed. He drank the rest of his water and wanted to snuggle back under the covers, but Sirius' hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

"You'll have to get back soon. It's almost curfew."

"Bugger." Harry felt himself pout, something he blamed entirely on those potions. 

"You'll see us again tomorrow. Go take a nice bath." Remus stretched carefully and then pulled Harry close and gave him a kiss. Harry kissed him back and nodded. They had another Legilimency lesson planned tomorrow evening, this time with Dumbledore. Whatever had possessed the man to plan it the day after the full moon, Harry didn't understand. 

Sirius collected Harry's clothes and Harry dressed in silence, casting wishful glances at the bed in which he'd slept with his lovers. Remus was getting dressed as well, as was Sirius, and soon they descended the stairs and Harry unfolded his invisibility cloak. Sirius gave him a bruising kiss, followed by a more gentle one from Remus, and Harry waved goodbye as he dropped carefully through the trapdoor. 

The potion did its work and Harry, while he still felt stiff, wasn't in any pain as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower. He pulled off the cloak right before he entered the common room. It was empty, save for his friends sitting around the fire. 

"Harry!" Ron perked up and waved him over. "Were have you been? Dumbledore wouldn't say anything."

Neville and Ginny, who sat together snugly on the couch, moved over to make room for Harry. As he sat down, Hermione gave him a calculated look from her seat opposite him.

"I had business, you know," Harry said, waving Ron's worried comments away. 

"For a whole night and day? What have they been doing with you, mate? You look like crap." Ron closed his Transfiguration textbook and looked Harry up and down. 

"It was intense," Harry said vaguely. 

"It must be powerful magic if it can affect you like that," Hermione said, and Harry looked at her. He knew Hermione was too smart for her own good and would figure out something if he didn't satisfy some of her curiosity. 

Harry looked around the common room, making sure they were alone. "All right, I can tell you some of what they are teaching me, but you can't tell anyone else."

"No worries," Ron said, looking eager. The rest nodded their agreement. 

"Snape and Dumbledore are teaching me Legilimency," Harry said. 

"Bloody hell." Ron clapped his hand over his eyes, looking away from Harry. 

"What's that?" Ginny asked, confused. 

"Mind reading," Ron piped, his voice an octave higher than it usually was. 

"You can read my mind?" Neville asked tightly, and he shifted closer to Ginny, away from Harry. 

Hermione sighed. "Legilimency isn't mind reading. It is penetrating the mind to sense someone else's emotions," she said, giving both Ron and Neville a stern look. Then she turned to Harry. "It is awfully powerful magic to be teaching a student."

"Yeah, well, Voldemort is an awfully powerful wizard, isn't he?" Harry replied. Hermione said nothing, but stared down at her shoes. 

"So you can't read my mind?" Neville asked. Ron pulled his hand away from his eyes and looked at Harry suspiciously.

"It's not mind reading, not really. And I'm not that good at it yet. Besides, I need to cast the spell before I can look around in someone's mind."

"You get to look around in Snape's mind?" Ron asked, horrified. "Harry, you poor sod."

Harry laughed. "No, not Snape's, thank god. Sirius and Remus help out, so I get to see some of their thoughts and feelings. It's really bizarre."

"I bet," Neville said. "What with Sirius and twelve years' worth of thoughts about Azkaban and Remus being a werewolf."

Looking down, Harry kept silent and forced himself not to respond to Neville's unintentional insults. Truth was, he'd only penetrated Sirius' mind once so far, and the things he'd seen had nothing to do with Azkaban. As for Remus, most of the memories Harry had seen had something to do with Sirius. 

"I think it's cool," Ginny said, smiling at Harry.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, and returned her smile. 

"It's not cool," Hermione chided. "It's complicated magic that requires a certain amount of responsibility in the person who masters it."

"You're just jealous that Harry knows a trick you don't," Ron said. 

Hermione huffed. "It's not a trick. It's penetrating someone else's mind."

"You said that already. Besides, Harry wouldn't use his trick on us." Ron looked at Harry with wide eyes. "Would you?"

"Of course not," Harry said, feeling his exhaustion catching up with him. "Like I said, I'm not that good at it. And as far as I know, there are only two wizards who can perform it without their wands. Even Snape still needs to say the incantation."

"Dumbledore and Voldemort," Hermione said thoughtfully. Harry nodded and saw Ron trying not to flinch at the second mention of Voldemort's name. He was getting better at it. 

"Dumbledore can read minds?" Neville's eyes widened. 

"That does explain a lot," Ginny said, patting Neville on his arm. 

"It's not mind reading," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "It's pen –"

"Penetrating the mind," Ron finished for her. "Still sounds an awful lot like mind reading to me."

Harry smiled but it got interrupted by a yawn. "I'm off to bed," he said, getting up. 

Ron rose from his chair. "Yeah, time to turn in."

Hermione got up as well, but Neville and Ginny didn't move. Harry suspected they wanted to say goodnight in a more personal way, and he felt a sharp pang in his chest that could be jealousy. Which was ridiculous, since he's just spent twenty-four hours with Sirius and Remus. Granted, half that time he'd been a wolf and the other half he'd been asleep, but he'd still been with them. 

He shook himself and followed Ron up the stairs. Once he saw his bed, he decided he was too tired for a bath and even though he knew he'd regret his decision in the morning, Harry changed into his pyjamas quickly and was asleep the moment his head touched his pillow.


	6. Chapter 5

"Professor Snape told me you are making progress since our last meeting," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. "But you still seem to have some trouble focusing on the present when you penetrate someone's mind."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, and shifted in his chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. Dumbledore had so far only once supervised Harry's Legilimency lessons, and even though Harry found Snape an unpleasant man to work with, he was used to Snape. With Dumbledore, he still didn't have much of an idea what to expect. He glanced to his right, at Sirius and Remus, but when Dumbledore spoke again, he looked back at the headmaster. 

"Then today we shall work on that, Harry. The next step of Legilimency, after you learn to enter someone's mind, is trying to gain control over the present and not get lost in the subject's memories." 

"Yes, sir," Harry said again and worried his bottom lip. Softly, he added, "But I'm not sure if I'm strong enough at the moment. It's only been a day since the full moon."

"Ah, yes, I realize you are not feeling quite like yourself yet, but do understand that you cannot let your unfortunate condition stop you from learning and using Legilimency. I daresay Voldemort won't care about the full moon if you should ever come face to face with him again." Dumbledore folded his hands on his desk and gave Harry an intense stare, which made Harry's skin crawl. 

"Just give it a try," Sirius said, and briefly squeezed Harry's knee. "Start with me. I promise I won't try to stop you from penetrating me."

Harry felt his cheeks flush and heard Remus choke on his tea. Dumbledore said nothing but smiled faintly and then gestured for Harry to get up. Harry rose, as did Sirius, and they looked at each other for a moment before Harry reached for his wand. 

"Try to stay in the present, Harry," Dumbledore said, and Harry nodded without taking his eyes off Sirius. 

"Whenever you're ready," Sirius whispered, the corners of his mouth twitching up. 

Trying to ignore the dull, aching throb in his entire body, Harry studied Sirius' face and gazed into his eyes. Blue eyes. Kind eyes which held the promise of passion and fury. Harry had seen both in them, and it had aroused him and frightened him often enough in the past. But now he tried to see Sirius in those eyes, Sirius' thoughts, Sirius' feelings. 

"Legilimens," Harry said, and felt his own mind disappear inside a black void. This wasn't new any longer and Harry steadied himself mentally, searching for a way back without breaking contact. He had to find the present, but he could hear whispers of Sirius' past all around him. 

And what Harry had feared happened. He felt his own weak mind give way under the pressure of Sirius' thoughts, feelings and memories, and suddenly Harry found himself in the past, fear and anger searing through his body. 

"You filthy little traitor!" a black-haired man snapped, and backhanded a young Sirius across the face. "You are no son of mine!" Another slap, harder this time, and Harry felt fury coil inside his stomach. "No son of mine gets Sorted into Gryffindor!" The punch to Sirius' stomach caught Harry by surprise, and as pain shot through him he fell backwards and vanished in the darkness of Sirius' mind. 

More whispers and no sign of the present,Harr and Harry felt trapped. 

"So that's it, then. You're just running away." A boy who looked strangely like Sirius stood in the doorway, watching as Sirius threw clothes and books into his trunk. "You're a coward, you know that, Sirius?"

"No, you're a coward, Reg!" Sirius clenched his fingers around a few Quidditch magazines, glaring at his brother. Harry felt something bitter seep into his mind, something that wasn't just anger, but also despair and perhaps even a bit of jealousy. "You're the bloody coward for lacking the balls to stand up to them!" Sirius snarled, and threw the magazines at his brother's head. 

Harry didn't know how Regulus responded to that because he was once again lost in darkness and whispers of the past. 

"Harry told me he loved me," Sirius said in what Harry recognized was the kitchen of twelve Grimmauld Place. 

Remus raised an eyebrow and smiled. "When was that?"

"Just before we joined Dumbledore this morning." Sirius smiled, and Harry felt warm inside, so warm and so good and he wondered if that was how Sirius had felt when Harry had said those words. 

"Did you return it?" Remus asked. Sirius looked puzzled and then shook his head. "You didn't tell Harry you loved him, too?" Sirius shook his head again, and this time Remus slapped it. "You're such a blithering idiot sometimes, Padfoot. Good thing I told Harry how you feel about him."

Harry tried to fight the darkness that threatened to consume him because he wanted to see how Sirius responded, but he was too weak to keep a solid grip on that particular memory and the image of Sirius and Remus faded and was replaced by vague whispers and darkness that felt so thick Harry didn't think he could ever find his way back. 

"Enough. Come back, Harry," a soft voice called, and Harry felt as if Sirius' mind had spit him out. He found himself back in Dumbledore's office. 

Feeling disoriented, Harry lost his balance and fell against Sirius, who caught him in an embrace. 

"I do, you know," Sirius whispered, and gave Harry a meaningful look. 

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, and smiled as he remembered feeling so very warm and so very good. Other images came back and Harry looked up at Sirius thoughtfully. "That man...was that –"

"My father, yes, that heartless bastard," Sirius said, his expression hardening. "And my brother. A similar bastard, in his own way."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, and Harry realized they weren't alone and the private moments they'd shared inside Sirius' mind had ended when Harry'd returned to the present. 

"You all right?" Sirius asked, letting go of Harry. 

"Yeah. You?" Harry accepted the glass of water Dumbledore offered him and watched as Sirius accepted one as well. 

"Fine. Nothing I haven't seen before," Sirius joked, but there wasn't a lot of humour in his voice. "Go harass Moony now."

Harry sipped his water and Sirius sank back in his chair, suddenly looking as exhausted as Remus.

"Are you ready for another try?" Dumbledore asked, and when Harry nodded, Remus rose from his chair. "You must try to stay in the present, Harry," Dumbledore insisted, his eyes boring into Harry's. 

"I'll try," Harry said and looked up at Remus, who gave him a small smile. This was more familiar territory than practicing with Sirius, since Harry had penetrated Remus' mind quite a few times before during his lessons with Snape. Still, Harry felt nervous, fed by his own exhaustion and the knowledge that he'd have to work hard to get it right. 

"I'm ready," Remus whispered. Harry nodded and focused on Remus' eyes, trying to see Remus' thoughts and feelings through them. 

"Legilimens." Harry found himself inside the dark void of Remus' mind and immediately began to draw back, searching for the present while he dodged stray images and whispers. 

But Remus' mind was strong and his memories alluring, and Harry felt his own mind fight the overpowering urge to latch itself to those feelings of the past. 

He had to find the present. Harry drew back further, feeling Remus' mind sucking him back in while Remus tried to push Harry back out. It was an impossible struggle that neither could win and Harry felt his chest constrict in panic, but he wasn't sure if that was one of Remus' emotions or one of his own. 

And then there were eyes, amber eyes lighting up in the darkness, feral and hungry. Harry tried to pull back, but Remus' memory held him tight and Harry was unable to move away from the image of a massive wolf slowly stalking towards a very young Remus. 

Fear unlike Harry had ever felt before froze him to the spot as the red-brown wolf closed the distance, mouth opened and saliva-covered teeth flashing in the light of the full moon. 

Harry felt teeth sinking into his side, tearing at the flesh, maiming him while blood splattered across his face. Someone screamed, but Harry wasn't sure if it was Remus or himself. All he saw were blood-covered teeth ripping into Remus' body and all he felt was pain so intense he threatened to black out. 

The screams continued while Harry fell through darkness until he landed on Dumbledore's office floor. Harry reached for his side in blind panic, certain he would feel torn flesh and warm blood there, but all the felt was the fabric of his robes. He panted, trying to focus his blurry vision until he realized his glasses had slipped off. Someone kneeled beside him, stroking his damp hair off his forehead, and as Harry glanced up he saw it was Dumbledore. Looking past the headmaster, Harry saw Sirius holding Remus, who trembled and had his face buried against Sirius' robes and his hands tightened around Sirius' shoulders. Sirius stared at Harry, looking completely lost. 

"Come, my boy," Dumbledore said, and helped Harry up into a chair. He offered Harry his glasses and Harry slid them on with trembling hands. 

"I believe that will be enough for today. Sirius, you may use my fire to go back to Grimmauld Place, and Harry, I trust you will find your way back to Gryffindor Tower once you're ready." Dumbledore nodded and disappeared through a side door, leaving Harry alone with his two lovers. 

"God," Harry gasped, still feeling disoriented and shocked by what he'd seen and felt. 

"You were both screaming," Sirius said quietly, his hand stroking the back of Remus' head. "I assume you saw the memory of..."

"Yeah," Harry said quickly when he realized Sirius was too choked up to continue. 

"Come on, Moony," Sirius whispered and guided Remus to the chair beside Harry, sitting him down gently. Remus' eyes were closed and his face drained of blood. Sirius crouched down in front of them, resting his hands on both their knees. 

"That was..." Remus swallowed, his eyes still closed. "The one memory I didn't want you to see."

Harry didn't know what to say to that and he looked at Sirius helplessly. Part of him agreed with Remus and wished he hadn't seen it, but a different part of him, perhaps the wolf, was glad to have seen how Remus got infected. "I'm sorry," he finally mumbled, not sure if he really was. 

"No," Remus sighed, dropping his hand in Harry's lap. "That's not how I meant it. I'm sorry. That you had to see that."

"It's okay," Harry said, covering Remus' hand with his own, stroking his fingers between Remus'. Now that his mind was calmer, he felt his body respond to the experience by reminding him of his recent transformation. His muscles burned and his joints ached and Harry felt tears sting against the back of his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He wasn't weak. If Remus didn't cry about this neither would Harry. 

"It's done," Sirius said, pressing his own hand on top of Harry's and Remus'. "You'll be fine. We'll be fine."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, because he wanted them to be fine. Still, he couldn't let go of what he'd seen and felt inside Remus' mind and the more he thought about it, the more questions popped up. He glanced at Remus, who had finally opened his eyes and was staring at nothing in particular. 

"When...how did it happen?" he asked softly. 

Remus tightened his fingers around Harry's and shook his head. 

"Maybe now is not the best time to be asking those questions," Sirius said. Harry wondered if Sirius knew the full story behind Remus' infection. He also wondered when the best time would be. Obviously not this close to the full moon after Harry had just seen Remus getting bitten. Harry felt confused but he nodded at Sirius anyway. 

They stayed in Dumbledore's office for a while longer, catching their breath and making small talk, and by the time Harry said his goodbyes and walked back to Gryffindor Tower he had banished most thoughts about Remus' infection from his mind. 

And it wasn't until their first Hogsmeade visit, the next weekend, that Harry thought about it again. 

"We're going to Madam Puddifoot's," Ron said, nodding at Luna, Neville and Ginny. "You two are welcome to come if you want."

Hermione, who walked beside Harry as they followed the two couples into Hogsmeade, gave Harry an expectant look. 

"Nah, don't feel like going there," Harry said. He'd only been there once with Cho, back in his fifth year, and it hadn't really been a place he felt comfortable in. "I think I'll just stroll around for a bit."

"Suit yourself," Ron said. He gave Harry a smile and then became distracted by something Luna whispered into his ear. 

Hermione slowed her pace and glanced up at Harry. "I have a few things to buy. Do you want to come?" She gestured at the Apothecary to their right. Harry, who heard faint noises in the distance that roused his curiosity, shook his head. 

"I'm just going to walk around for a bit. I'll probably go back early. Still have some homework to finish before Quidditch practice this evening." That was hardly something Hermione could disagree with, Harry thought. 

Truth was that he had a date with Remus. Or that was what Sirius had called it. Of course, Remus was there to meet him as a member of the Order, to look after his safety as he'd done before the summer holidays, when Harry had been attacked and Remus got hit with the hex Voldemort had meant for him. Harry knew he could drag Remus along while he spent some time with his friends, but Harry'd much rather spend time with Remus alone than act as if he wasn't shagging Remus every other night with Sirius thrown into the mix. 

"I'll see you later, then." Hermione smiled and disappeared into the Apothecary, leaving Harry to discover that the rest of his friends had already walked on. He dug his hands into the pockets of his cloak and strolled along the street, enjoying the fresh air and the mild, October sun. 

The noise he'd heard a moment earlier got louder as Harry made his way through Hogsmeade, and when he passed Zonko's he saw where it was coming from. A group of people flocked from the side street, carrying signs and shouting things Harry couldn't quite make out. 

Harry halted and noticed other students do the same as they watched the group march up the street. It seemed like a demonstration of sorts, Harry realized, and he frowned as he tried to make out the dancing words on one of the signs. 

'Wizards Opposing Werewolves'

The ground seemed to disappear beneath Harry's feet and he literally grabbed hold of the wall behind him to steady himself. As the group drew near, Harry was finally able to make out what they were chanting. 

"Registration, no! Incarceration is the only way to go!"

Harry was torn between running away as fast as he could and charging at the nearest wizard in the group and punching him into the ground. Instead he just stood frozen on the spot, watching in shock as the group turned around and marched back where they came from. Had these people somehow learned Remus was coming to Hogsmeade? Was that why they were holding their demonstration right there and then? Harry was sure no one knew he was a werewolf; if his secret ever came out, Harry was convinced it would appear on the front page of the Daily Prophet. 

Why on earth were those people demonstrating against werewolves?

Feeling the restraining panic seep from his body, Harry realized there was only one way to find out. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and set after the group, his hand tightened around his wand in his pocket. 

The group, which consisted mostly of middle-aged wizards and witches, continued its way down the side street and finally stopped in front of the Hog's Head, where their chanting became louder. 

Harry kept to the side, but as he approached the Hog's Head, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and a shiver crawl down his spine. It was as if his instinct, his gut, was telling him something was wrong. As if his wolf responded to a possible threat nearby, Harry thought. 

It couldn't be the group of demonstrators, since Harry had followed them without any problems. Remembering the Death Eater attack, Harry pressed his back against one of the small houses and glanced around, looking for suspicious figures. But he saw no one besides the demonstrators who were now walking in a large circle in front of the Hog's Head. 

The Hog's Head. That was where it was coming from. 

Harry snapped his gaze up and saw something – someone – move around behind half-closed curtains in a room on the first floor. Harry's entire body broke out in gooseflesh and his stomach churned. 

Narrowing his eyes, Harry saw a flash of white and was unwittingly reminded of the werewolf's teeth glittering in the light of the full moon right before they sank into young Remus' body. Bile rose up from his stomach, and without knowing what he was doing, Harry started walking backwards, away from the Hog's Head, his gaze still fixed on that window. 

For a moment, Harry thought he saw a second figure move behind the curtains, but then the curtains were drawn shut and all Harry saw was the faint silhouette of a tall man. 

Harry kept walking backwards, resisting the urge to pull out his wand. He had no idea what was wrong, only that something was wrong. 

"Lad!"

The door of the Hog's Head banged open, and Harry saw a man storm out, but the group of demonstrators immediately closed in on him and Harry couldn't make out his face. 

"Piss off, you miserable bastards! Lad! Wait!"

Harry ran. He ran as fast as he could, the hood of his cloak falling off his head and his glasses slipping down his nose. He rounded the corner, intent on running all the way to the Three Broomsticks where Remus would be waiting for him, and then he collided with something hard. He lost his balance and fell on his arse, right in the middle of Hogsmeade's High Street. 

"You really have to stop doing that," Bill said with an amused smile. 

"Remus," Harry gasped, out of breath. "I have to...the Three Broomsticks."

"Is everything all right, Harry?" Bill offered Harry a hand and pulled him back onto his feet. 

"Yeah...no...I have to meet Remus." Harry closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself. He had no idea what had just happened. 

"I'll walk you to the Three Broomsticks then," Bill said, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder and guiding him down the street. 

Harry saw Remus standing right outside the Three Broomsticks and he pulled himself away from Bill, closing the distance between him and Remus in a few quick steps. But as he stopped in front of Remus, Harry realized he couldn't throw his arms around Remus' neck, something he desperately wanted to do. They were in public, and if he did that, there would be a lot of questions and speculations. 

Remus must have sensed Harry's need for contact, and he inconspicuously brushed his hand against Harry's. "I saw them," he whispered and then turned to look at Bill. "Hello, Bill. How are you?"

"Hello, Remus," Bill said, looking back and forth between Harry and Remus with a knowing smile. "I'm fine. You?"

"Couldn't be better," Remus replied, rather bitterly. "Will you join us for a butterbeer?"

"Sounds good." Bill followed them inside the Three Broomsticks, where Remus found them a secluded table. Harry sat down and glanced around while Remus ordered three butterbeers. The pub was mostly filled with students and a few adults Harry didn't recognize. 

Harry accepted his butterbeer with a grateful smile, but he didn't relax until he felt Remus' hand squeeze his thigh under the table. 

"What are they doing here?" he asked softly and took a sip from his butterbeer, letting it warm his insides. 

"I don't know," Remus said. 

"A bit of an odd place to hold a demonstration," Bill said, leaning closer to Harry and Remus to keep their conversation private. "You'd think they'd go to Diagon Alley with something like that."

Remus snorted. "These people don't care where they are heard as long as they are heard."

"Who are they?" Harry asked. 

"People who believe werewolves should be locked up," Remus said quietly. Harry choked on his butterbeer and coughed while he glanced at Remus, feeling icy fear settle around his heart. 

"I always like to think of them as people who should have their heads examined," Bill offered, obviously trying to lighten the mood. But Harry didn't laugh and neither did Remus. "Honestly, the Ministry will never give into their wishes."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Remus said. "They've already given into more than enough demands from those extremists."

Bill said nothing, and Harry wondered exactly what Remus was talking about. But he realized that a crowded pub plus the presence of Bill didn't make for an ideal situation to be discussing that. 

And then there was the matter of the man Harry had seen, or rather heard, outside the Hog's Head. But that was also something he'd rather discuss with Remus in private, so he kept quiet and sipped his butterbeer. 

Suddenly, Remus snapped his gaze up and reached for Harry, knocking his bottle of butterbeer over. Harry, who was sitting with his back to the door, didn't see anyone enter, but he heard the doorbell chime. Remus roughly pulled the hood of Harry's cloak up over his head and hauled Harry to his feet while pushing Harry's head down. 

"We're leaving. Now," he said, and Harry was about to protest, trying to pull himself out of Remus' grip, when he heard the same voice he'd heard outside the Hog's Head. 

"Lupin."

"Leave me alone," Remus snapped, keeping Harry's head down so all Harry could see were a pair of worn shoes. 

"Remus." Softer now, and closer. "Who's the lad?"

"Get out of my way."

"Is he yours?"

"I believe that is none of your business."

"You can't hide him forever."

"I think I can, and unless you want me to hex your eyeballs inside out I suggest you move out of my way now."

Harry didn't think he'd ever heard Remus address anyone in such an icy tone, not to mention threaten someone so blatantly.

"I'll find out who he is."

"Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged."

"I think not," Bill suddenly said. Harry realized he must have heard the whole exchange. The pair of worn shoes retreated two steps. "Remus, get out of here. I'll take care of this bloke."

Remus pushed past the unidentified man, dragging Harry with him, still holding his hooded head down. 

"Remus," Harry hissed when he heard the door of the Three Broomsticks fall shut behind them. "Let go of me."

"Keep quiet," Remus said firmly, and kept Harry's head down while he guided him through the crowded street. All Harry saw was the ground, Remus' feet taking large steps and the shoes and cloaks of students around them. He wanted to pull himself free. He wanted to yell at Remus for treating him like a bloody child. But he didn't want to get angry with Remus, because some part of him recognized that Remus was trying to keep him safe. Not that Harry believed he needed safe-keeping. 

"Remus," he pressed, trying to pull Remus' hand off the back of his head. "Who was that man? What did he want?"

"Not here. Wait until we're out of Hogsmeade."

Harry sighed and gave in. He followed Remus, trying not to stumble over his own feet, and kept quiet while they hastily made their way out of Hogsmeade. 

When Remus finally let go of him, Harry snapped his head up, pushed his glasses back up his nose, and noticed that they were already a fair distance away from Hogsmeade. 

"What the fuck was that?"

"Nothing you should worry about," Remus said quietly, digging his hands into his pockets, not looking at Harry. 

"Who was that man? What did he want?" Harry glared at Remus, but couldn't help noticing that Remus looked pale and rather shocked. 

"He's no one."

"But he knew....he knew what I was, didn't he?"

"Yes, it seems that way," Remus whispered and glanced at Harry. 

"How did he know? Was he one of those demonstrators?"

"No, he wasn't one of them. And I have no idea how he knows, to be honest."

Harry swallowed. "But if he knows...if someone knows..." He didn't finish but looked at Remus, fear coiling in his stomach. 

"He won't tell," Remus said vaguely. 

Something clicked inside Harry's mind, and he stared at Remus for a moment. "He's a werewolf then, whoever he is."

Remus said nothing, which was all the confirmation Harry needed. 

"Why won't you tell me who he is? He knows what I am, and he's obviously after me, and how can I defend myself if I don't even know –"

"Because he won't hurt you," Remus said suddenly, glaring at Harry. "He's not after you that way. The less you know about this, Harry, the easier it will be for you."

"Oh," Harry said, gritting his teeth. "This is about not letting me know what's going on again, isn't it? After all, we all saw how well that worked for me in my fifth year."

"This is different!" Remus stopped walking, his gaze fixed on Harry's. "He isn't out to kill you. It will just be easier for you if you don't associate with him. And the less you know about him, the easier it will be to avoid him. Trust me, Harry."

Harry sighed and nodded. He knew that if Remus didn't want to tell him, he wouldn't. If anything, Remus was even more stubborn than Sirius. They resumed walking and passed through the gates of Hogwarts. Remus took the path that led them around the lake in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, and Harry followed him quietly. When they were halfway around the lake, Remus stopped and sat down on a patch of grass at the forest's edge overlooking the water. Harry sat down next to him, lost in his thoughts. 

"I think I sensed him," he finally said, looking at Remus. "Outside the Hog's Head...I sensed something."

"That's not possible," Remus said, frowning. "Werewolves can't sense each other in human form. What did you feel?"

"As if I was getting sick. As if I knew there was something very bad nearby. All I wanted to do was run away."

Remus pursed his lips. "But that doesn't make any sense," he mused. 

"What doesn't?"

"There's only one creature a werewolf responds to, that he can sense, when he's in his human form."

"What creature is that?" Harry asked, feeling curious and worried at the same time. 

"A vampire."

Harry stared at Remus, baffled. "A vampire?"

"Yes. But it doesn't make any sense, because werewolves and vampires don't get along."

"We don't?" Harry wondered.

Remus chuckled and shifted closer to Harry, resting his hand on Harry's thigh. Harry felt instantly better now that Remus seemed more relaxed. 

"No, we don't. There are many legends about vampires, but unfortunately there aren't a lot of facts known about them. One thing we do know, though. Vampire blood is lethal for werewolves. They're our natural enemies, if you will."

Harry worried his bottom lip.

"So, you see, it doesn't make any sense. I know he would never socialize with vampires," Remus said. 

"And he came running out of the Hog's Head," Harry concluded, still extremely curious to know who 'he' actually was.

"I'll go over some texts when I get home, see if there is something else that can invoke such a response." Remus shifted closer again and Harry leaned against him, pressing his cheek to Remus' shoulder and inhaling his familiar and comforting scent. 

Remus took a deep breath and briefly nuzzled Harry's hair. "I don't want you to have to deal with any of this, Harry. Not as long as you are still here and you have other things to worry about."

"I suppose," Harry sighed. He shifted his head and kissed Remus' cheek. Remus lowered his face and pressed his lips to Harry's, tracing his tongue across Harry's bottom lip. Smiling, Harry parted his lips and met Remus' tongue with his own, kissing him slowly while his eyes fluttered shut. 

"Can we stay here for a bit?" Harry asked when they pulled back to catch their breath. 

"If you want. Will we see you tonight?"

Harry shook his head. "I've got Quidditch practice. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow it is, then," Remus said, and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders. "Harry, promise me you won't go into Hogsmeade by yourself."

Harry, surprised by Remus' sudden demand, said nothing. 

"Not just because of what happened today. There have been reports of increased Death Eater activity. And if they get wind of you sneaking around Hogsmeade after hours, well, I don't want to think about what could happen to you."

"All right. I won't," Harry said, and tried to mean it. He hadn't thought about investigating today's happenings on his own. Not really. 

"Thank you," Remus said, and kissed his temple. Harry relaxed against him and tried very hard to forget the things he'd seen and heard that morning.


	7. Chapter 6

That next Friday, Harry once again woke up from the strange dream he'd been having all week. Every night he found himself in the Three Broomsticks with Remus, who held his head down while Harry stared at a pair of worn shoes. And every night, instead of Bill stepping in, Remus let go of Harry's head and when Harry looked up he saw the wolf he'd seen in Remus' memories. The wolf only stared at Harry as it advanced on Remus, but before Harry could see what that wolf was going to do, he woke up. 

It wasn't exactly a nightmare, because oddly enough, Harry didn't feel scared. But the dreams were intense enough to keep Harry occupied for the rest of the day as he wondered what they meant, or even if they meant anything. 

He was sure it didn't have anything to do with Voldemort, since his scar never hurt when he woke up. Harry had thought about bringing it up with Sirius and Remus, but neither one had mentioned the encounter in Hogsmeade and Harry got the idea that they didn't want to talk about it. And thus Harry kept quiet and pondered in the privacy of his own mind.

*~*~*~*~*

"Potter, pay attention," Snape said, and Harry blinked up at him. "Wand out."

Glancing at Remus, Harry pulled out his wand and mentally shook himself. He had to concentrate on the present if he wanted to get better at Legilimency.

For a moment, Harry thought about searching Remus' mind for his memory of last Saturday's encounter, so he would be able to see who that mysterious man was. But Harry realized that was betraying the trust Remus put in him, and Harry didn't want to betray Remus. 

"Begin," Snape said, and leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. 

Harry stared into Remus' eyes, concentrated on the here and now, and whispered, "Legilimens."

The dark void was familiar, as were the whispers of the past. Harry tried to pull back to the present and he felt Remus fight his intrusion. Harry fought back, trying to keep a firm grip on Remus' mind, lest Remus pushed him out completely. But that only sucked him deeper inside Remus' memories and suddenly Harry found himself in an unfamiliar, dimly-lit room. 

And he felt someone's cock inside him, fucking him roughly. 

For a moment, Harry thought he'd stumbled upon a memory of Remus and Sirius together, as he'd done before. But this was different. It felt different. Remus felt different. The person fucking Remus felt different. 

"Harder," Remus moaned, and Harry felt the other person lean over Remus from behind, thrusting faster and biting down on Remus' throat. Both curious and horrified, Harry tried to get inside the memory further, to see who was fucking Remus, but Remus' mind closed instantly, throwing Harry back out. 

"Pathetic, Potter," Snape said. "Again."

Harry gasped for breath and stared at Remus, who narrowed his eyes, looking pale. Harry couldn't read the odd expression on Remus' face and he had no idea what Remus was thinking or what the importance might be of what he had just seen.

"Legilimens," Harry whispered automatically, not concentrating on staying in the present. 

He felt scared. And ashamed. And idly, Harry wondered why he wasn't sucked into the dark void of Remus' mind. He was about to mentally kick himself for fucking it up when he felt his mind breaking the connection with Remus' mind. 

"It seems you finally got it right, Potter," Snape said, and Harry looked at him, confused. 

He had done it?

He had done it. 

He had managed to stay in the present while he penetrated Remus' mind. Harry felt a bit disappointed. Somehow he'd thought it would be a more intense experience. But nevertheless, he'd finally done it. 

That meant that he'd felt Remus' current emotions. Fear and shame. Harry looked back at Remus, but Remus didn't meet his gaze. Instead he looked at Snape. 

"If that will be all for this evening. I have other matters to attend to."

"Yes, Lupin, that will be all."

Before Harry could say anything, Remus leaned closer to him. "We'll see you tomorrow," he whispered, and walked out of Snape's office without another word. 

"Get out, Potter," Snape said, and turned his back to Harry. 

Harry, still confused, picked up his bag and left Snape's office, lost in his thoughts. 

He had felt Remus' current emotions. Fear and shame. Right after he'd seen, and felt, Remus being fucked by an unknown man. 

Harry stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the corridor. 

Was Remus seeing someone else? Had he accidentally stumbled upon a memory of Remus...cheating on both Sirius and him?

The betrayal that suddenly surged through Harry made him dizzy and he felt as if someone was cutting off his breath. Without thinking, Harry ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, ignored his housemates, and hurriedly made his way to their dormitory. He jumped on his bed, cast a quick silencing charm on his curtains and grabbed his mirror. 

"Sirius!"

For a moment the mirror stayed blank. Then Sirius face came into view. "Hey, Harry."

"Are you alone?" Harry asked rather desperately. 

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Yeah. Remus hasn't come back yet."

"Good." Harry sat back against his headboard and took a deep breath. "I just saw Remus with another man."

"What?" 

"In his memories," Harry added. 

Sirius, who had looked murderous only a moment before, visibly relaxed. "Did you see who it was? Anyone you knew?"

"No," Harry said. "I just felt it...that it wasn't you."

"Did you see when it was?"

"Um...no. But right after that, I sensed his emotions, and he felt scared and ashamed. I think he's seeing someone."

Sirius laughed, which made Harry even more confused. "Harry, I can tell you with all certainty that Remus isn't seeing anyone on the side."

"He's not?" Harry asked, still feeling uncertain and betrayed. 

"He's not. I trust Remus with my life and he's not the type to sleep around. Trust me, Harry."

"Then what was that memory all about?"

Sirius sat down, his face briefly vanishing from view. "You're forgetting that Remus spent quite some time on his own when I was in Azkaban. And even before that, Remus occasionally saw other people."

Harry stared at Sirius and finally allowed himself to relax a bit. 

"After that stunt I pulled at Hogwarts, Remus and I didn't get back together until...well, until last year," Sirius continued, and Harry nodded silently. "I've also been with a couple of random blokes after we broke up and before everything went to hell."

"All right," Harry sighed, not at all happy to have learned that Sirius had been with someone other than Remus. Harry felt jealous at that thought. "But why was he feeling scared, then? And ashamed?"

"How would you feel if your current lover saw you shagging someone else?"

"Um..." Harry snapped his mouth shut, since he didn't know exactly how to reply to that. 

"I'd say it's a perfectly normal response, to feel a bit scared and ashamed in that situation," Sirius said, and gave Harry a gentle smile.

"Okay." Harry pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, resting the mirror on his drawn up legs. He felt tired all of a sudden, his body catching up with the exhaustion that always came after a Legilimency session. Harry wondered if perhaps he should mention the dreams to Sirius, as they might have something to do with this whole thing. 

But Sirius said he trusted Remus. And truthfully, Harry trusted Remus, as well. It was just gnawing at him that Remus thought it best he didn't know certain things. He wanted to believe Remus, but not knowing was incredibly frustrating, to say the least. 

"So, what are you wearing?" Sirius gave Harry a lecherous smile, waggling his eyebrows. Harry stared for a moment, and then burst out in laughter. 

"My school robes," he whispered hoarsely, trying not to snicker. 

"Ah...sexy school robes. Think you can take them off?" 

Harry quickly checked if his curtains were shut tight and then nodded at Sirius. "What do you want to do?" he asked, tugging open his buttons with one hand. 

"Well, since Remus won't be back for a while, I thought we'd entertain ourselves." 

"Where is he off to?" Harry asked, shrugging off his robes. He saw in the corner of the mirror that Sirius reached down and Harry imagined Sirius was opening his robes as well, which sent a sharp flutter of arousal straight to his cock. 

"Order business," Sirius replied. "Take everything off. I want you completely naked."

Harry kicked off his shoes, wriggled out of his boxers and lay down, holding the mirror close to his face. 

"Are you hard?" Sirius asked, his voice huskier than usual. 

"I'm getting there," Harry whispered, grabbing his half-hard cock and pulling at it gently. "Are you?"

Sirius shifted the mirror and Harry saw Sirius' hard cock poking up between his parted robes, his hand wrapped around it and stroking lazily. 

"God," Harry gasped. The mirror turned back and Sirius grinned at him. 

"Show me your cock."

Turning the mirror, Harry aimed it at the lower half of his body, his own prick now fully erect. He heard Sirius moan, and he held the mirror close to his face again.

"I want you to touch yourself and stroke yourself until you come, and I want to watch your face while you do so," Sirius whispered. Harry stroked faster, keeping his gaze locked with Sirius', feeling so close to him even though they were hundreds of miles apart. 

"I want that, too," Harry said and stifled a moan. "I want to see your face when you come."

"You will. You look incredible like this, Harry. All flushed. All aroused. All for me?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, drawing his knees up and letting them fall open. "'S'all for you."

"I'm thinking it's your hand, you know, stroking me," Sirius said, licking his lips. Harry mimicked the action. "I'm thinking we're touching each other and Remus is watching us but he's not allowed to interfere."

"God, yes," Harry moaned, resisting the urge to close his eyes and give into that fantasy completely. He wanted to watch Sirius. He wanted to see Sirius' cheeks flush and his nose wrinkle when he climaxed. "I wish you were here, touching me."

"I'm right there, Harry." Sirius sounded slightly out of breath, which made Harry's cock twitch. He stroked faster and saw Sirius lean his head on the back of the couch, his eyes half-shut.

"I'm close," Harry moaned. All the tension and his earlier worries seemed to fuel his arousal and all he could think about was climaxing so he'd feel relaxed again. "I'm so close."

"I want to see you come, Harry. I want to hear you when you come."

"Fuck," Harry gasped, staring into Sirius' blue eyes. "God, yes, Sirius." His orgasm was hard, intense, and made his legs jerk as he spurted his release over his fingers and onto his belly.

"Harry," Sirius said softly, smiling. Then his face screwed up in the way it always did when Sirius was close, and Harry stroked the last of his climax out of his body while he watched Sirius' nostrils flare and his lips tremble. 

"Harry." Hoarser this time, and Sirius opened his mouth in a soundless cry. Harry watched enthralled as Sirius came, studying every line in his face and every twitch of muscles in his jaw. 

"Feel better?" Sirius finally asked, taking a deep breath. 

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling and stretching himself on his bed. "Much better."

"Good. Get some sleep then."

"Sirius?" Harry asked hesitantly. 

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell Remus I'm sorry for...well, for being an idiot?"

Sirius chuckled. "You can tell him yourself tomorrow."

"All right. Good night, Sirius."

"Good night, Harry." Sirius smiled at him one last time, and then the mirror went blank. Harry shoved it under his pillow, performed a quick cleaning spell on himself and crawled under his covers. Thinking about what he'd seen in Remus' mind and Sirius' statement that he trusted Remus with his life, Harry fell into a fitful sleep. 

His dreams again took him to the Three Broomsticks, and Harry looked at worn shoes until Remus released him and then he watched the wolf approach Remus, expecting to wake up any moment. But instead, they were suddenly in that unfamiliar, dimly-lit room. Remus, naked, crawled onto the bed on his hands and knees, and the wolf followed him. Harry held his breath as he watched the massive, red-brown wolf mount Remus, the wolf's pointed erection sliding easily inside Remus' body. 

Harry knew it was a dream, because Remus could never let himself be fucked by a werewolf like that. Remus was a werewolf, after all. But it surely looked and sounded real enough and Harry was reminded of all the times he'd spent with Moony, how Moony had fucked him and how good it had felt. 

He got hard, watching the wolf pound into Remus, who looked as if he were enjoying himself. And just when it seemed the wolf was going to climax, Harry saw the beast open his jaws and sink his teeth into Remus' neck, blood running down Remus' throat and arms. 

Harry woke with a start, his body trembling from a recent orgasm and his sheets sticky with his semen. 

Groaning, Harry buried his face in his pillow. He'd had a wet dream while he'd watched Remus being fucked by a werewolf. He hadn't had a wet dream since before the summer. These days he had so much sex, not to mention any additional wanking he did in the shower or in his bed, that there simply wasn't anything left to torture him with during the night. 

Until now. 

Taking a few deep, calming breaths, Harry tried to remember the rest of the dream. How the werewolf had sunk his teeth into Remus' neck. It didn't make any sense, and Harry was convinced his Legilimency lessons were having an odd effect on his brain. Perhaps he should ask Dumbledore about that the next time the headmaster supervised one of his sessions. 

"Harry, wake up! We've got practice," Ron said loudly. Harry heard him rummage around their dormitory, and he pushed himself up with a sigh, mentally readying himself for a whole morning of Quidditch practice. 

Harry managed not to snap at anyone during breakfast, but he felt incredibly tense and he knew no one had better get in his way that day. His mood did not improve when they arrived at the Quidditch field, and Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team were sitting in the stands. Harry was sorely tempted to shove his Firebolt up Malfoy's arse, but he figured that would be a waste of a perfectly good broom. 

Ron wanted to throw them off the field, but Dennis reminded them that there wasn't a rule against one team watching another team practice. 

They all tried to ignore the Slytherins' loud commentary and pitiful taunts, but nevertheless Ron was unable to stop a single one of Ginny's goals, Dean took one of Jamie's Bludgers to his stomach, and Harry was unable to locate the Snitch before practice was over because all he could stare at were those bloody Slytherins. 

"That was pathetic!" he yelled at his teammates in the changing room. "We're playing them in two weeks, and look how you let their mere presence affect your concentration!"

The team looked properly scolded, even though Ron glared at him accusingly. "We're better than they are," Harry continued. "We're stronger, and we're better players. And we can beat them with one hand tied behind our backs while flying on Cleansweep Ones, but that is not going to happen if we all let them get to us like this."

They continued dressing in silence, and all Harry could think was that he'd just given the team false hope for ever winning the upcoming game. They couldn't win it because Harry wouldn't be there, and without a Gryffindor Seeker, Slytherin had too much of an advantage.  
a 

"Have you already finished your Transfiguration essay?" Hermione asked when they returned to the common room after lunch. 

Harry grunted something that sounded like 'no' and dropped down in a chair. 

"Well, now is a good time to work on it," Hermione suggested, opening her bag and pulling out her homework. 

"Who cares about a bloody essay?" Harry snapped, kicking against the chair beside him in frustration. Ron, who occupied said chair, looked at him with a frown. 

"Harry," Hermione gasped, shocked. "We have to take our NEWTS at the end of the year. Of course this essay is important."

"Why don't you just shove your essay up your arse," Harry snarled, jumping to his feet. 

"Mate, that was uncalled for," Ron said sharply, reaching out to grab Harry's arm, but Harry pulled away from his grip and stomped out of the common room.

Harry spent most of the afternoon strolling around Hogwarts' grounds. But even though he was outdoors, he still felt trapped and restless. Eventually he made it all the way to the Hogwarts gates, to find them locked.

Curling his fingers around the iron bars, Harry leaned his forehead against the gate and stared out across the path that led to Hogsmeade. Part of him was tempted, as always, to ignore certain rules and sneak into Hogsmeade to satisfy his curiosity about the mysterious man Remus didn't want him to know about. 

But no, Harry had promised Remus he wouldn't go into Hogsmeade by himself. And despite Sirius' usual bravado, Harry knew Sirius would be upset as well if he put himself in any real danger. 

Not for the first time that day, Harry wished he was back at Grimmauld Place. Before he'd got back to Hogwarts, everything had been fine. Perfect, even. And now he felt miserable, locked up in a place he'd once thought of as home, but which he was starting to hate more and more every day. 

He only wanted to be with Sirius and Remus. The rest of the world could go fuck itself. 

Lost in thought and wallowing in self-pity, Harry almost didn't see the faint figure beside the distant blackberry bushes. Harry frowned and narrowed his eyes. He was sure he'd seen a man there, but when he blinked the figure was gone. 

Someone was watching Hogwarts, it seemed. Or perhaps, they were watching him. Harry's curiosity was piqued and he took a step back, debating what to do. He could go back, get his invisibility cloak and sneak out through one of the hidden passageways. But that meant he'd have to confront his friends, and Harry didn't quite feel up to that. 

Looking the gate up and down, Harry concluded that it would be easy enough to climb over it. Ignoring the part of his mind that told him this might be a very bad idea, Harry grabbed hold of the bars and put one foot on the bottom ledge. 

"Hey there, Harry," said a familiar voice behind him. 

Harry spun around on his feet. "Hagrid!"

"Saw someone when I was makin' me rounds. Thought it might be yeh. How are yeh, Harry?" Hagrid smiled broadly, patting Harry on the shoulder. 

"I was just...thinking. Out for a walk, you know," Harry said, briefly glancing over his shoulder to see if the figure might have returned. But the path to Hogsmeade was empty. 

"Been a while since I seen yeh," Hagrid said. "Outside o'class, that is. How about a cuppa?"

"All right," Harry said, figuring that having a chat with Hagrid might keep him out of trouble until he'd be able to meet Sirius and Remus early that evening. Harry followed Hagrid down to his cottage at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, listening to Hagrid talk about the latest creature he'd got his hands on for his classes. 

"Come in, come in," Hagrid said, pushing his door open and waving Harry inside. But the moment Harry crossed the threshold, Fang rose from his blanket in front of the fireplace and growled. 

"It's just Harry," Hagrid said, patting Fang roughly on his large head. "Yeh see, Harry. It's been so long since yeh visited, even Fang doesn't recognize yeh anymore."

But Harry knew Fang recognized him just fine. In fact, Fang recognized a whole lot more about him than Hagrid did. It was odd how well Harry understood canines since his own infection. Fang was giving him a very clear warning. Harry lowered his gaze and slowly stuck out his hand, palm up. Fang approached him cautiously, sniffed his hand and then wagged his tail once, but still kept his keen gaze fixed on Harry. 

"There yeh go," Hagrid said happily, hanging the kettle over the fire. Harry sank down on Hagrid's overly large couch, not looking Fang in the eye. Fang sniffed Harry extensively, dribbling drool all over Harry's robes, but Harry ignored it in favour of giving Fang a chance to see he meant well. 

Hagrid served tea and eventually, Fang lay down at Harry's feet and fell asleep. Harry spent the rest of his afternoon chatting with Hagrid about his classes and Quidditch, and Hagrid filled Harry in on how Grawp was doing back in Russia. And Harry felt relaxed, sitting there in Hagrid's cottage. It reminded him of how much simpler things had been in his first year at Hogwarts, when Hagrid had introduced him to the wizarding world. And all too soon it was time for Harry to leave, if he wanted to catch some dinner before meeting Sirius and Remus. 

"Thanks," Harry said. "It was good to catch up."

"Come by again." Hagrid smiled and waved goodbye.

When he got to the Great Hall, Harry was happy to note none of his friends were there. He sat down at the far end of the Gryffindor table and ate some dinner, not making eye contact with any of the other students. He left as soon as he'd finished his plate and hurried to Gryffindor Tower to collect his invisibility cloak. But when he stepped through the portrait hole he was met with four angry stares. 

"We have to talk," Ron said, standing near the fire, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"I don't have time to talk," Harry muttered. He wanted to make his way to the stairs, but Ron moved and grabbed his arm. 

"Then make time."

Harry wanted to pull away from him, but the sharp edge to Ron's voice stopped him. He glanced at the rest of his friends; Hermione sat in a chair, looking properly pissed off, and Neville and Ginny shared the couch, also looking less than pleased. 

"Sit," Ron said, pointing at an empty chair. Harry walked to it stiffly and lowered himself ever so slowly. "Now, mind telling us what the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Looking at his friends, Harry kept quiet for a moment and wondered who all these people were. Suddenly, Harry was overwhelmed with the desire to tell his friends everything. Tell them he was a werewolf now and that was why he was acting so oddly. Tell them he was seeing Sirius and Remus and that they made him so fucking happy and that being away from them killed him. 

But Harry's urge to keep Sirius and Remus safe was bigger than his desire to share his secrets. So he shrugged and stared at his shoes. 

"This whole Legilimency thing is taking a lot out of me," he said. 

"And you think it's all right to take that out on your friends?" Ron asked, standing behind Hermione's chair.

"It's hard." Harry shrugged again.

"That still doesn't give you the right to blow up in our faces," Hermione said reproachfully. 

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. 

"You've been acting completely out of control ever since school started," Hermione continued. Harry felt a flare of irritation in his chest, but he pushed it back. "You go off alone almost every evening. We hardly see you anymore."

Harry snapped his gaze up. "So what if I am? You're all doing your own things. Ron, you spend all your free time with Luna, Hermione is always busy with her Head Girl stuff, and Neville and Ginny are joined together at the hip."

This time it was Ron who shrugged, but Hermione pressed on. "But Harry, don't you want to spend time with someone?"

Getting to his feet, Harry took a deep breath. He didn't want to get angry with his friends again, but it was bloody hard not to. "I don't have time to spend with someone, do I? I'm busy with all my extra lessons and if I want to spend what little spare time I have by myself, then that's my business and not yours."

"We're just worried about you," Hermione said softly. 

"Don't be," Harry said. "I have to go. I have business. Don't wait up for me." He turned without giving his friends a second glance and trotted up the stairs. After he stuffed his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map into his bag, Harry shouldered it and left Gryffindor Tower, ignoring the odd looks his friends gave him. 

The only obstacle Harry encountered on his way to the Shrieking Shack was Mrs Norris, but Harry easily dodged her on the moving staircases. When he reached the trapdoor, he was out of breath and nervous as hell about seeing Remus again. Harry climbed inside the Shack, and for the first time Sirius did not pounce on him. Instead, Sirius stood against the wall and looked at Harry with an amused smile. 

"Hello, Harry," Remus said from his spot in the middle of the room. 

Harry shuffled towards Remus and looked up at him. "I'm an idiot," he said solemnly.

"I'll forgive you for that," Remus said, tracing his fingers down Harry's cheek. "After all, you can't help it that you take after your godfather."

"Oi!" Sirius yelled, but when Harry glanced at him he saw Sirius smiling. 

Resting his cheek on Remus' shoulder, Harry inhaled and basked in Remus' scent, letting it soothe him. He wrapped his arms around Remus' neck and pressed his body against Remus'. 

"I'm so sorry for ever doubting you," he whispered. 

"It's all right, Harry," Remus whispered back, stroking Harry's hair while he rested his chin on Harry's head. "I know it's hard on you and that it must be confusing at times."

"Merlin, Harry, you're as tense as a contained dragon," Sirius said as he joined them and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. Sirius kneaded gently and Harry leaned back into his touch, feeling some of the strain he'd felt all day evaporate under Sirius' hands. 

"Can we just...go upstairs?" Harry asked. He needed to feel them, needed them to take him and make him feel like he belonged with them again. 

"We can," Remus said, letting go of Harry. "I do think it's time we reminded you who you belong to. But after that we are going to have a long talk."

"Yes," Harry sighed, anticipation and arousal flaming to life inside of him. He let Remus take his hand and lead him up the stairs to their bedroom, where they silently undressed. Harry was naked first and he crawled onto the bed, looking at Sirius and Remus expectantly. 

"On your hands and knees," Remus ordered, peeling off his boxers before joining Harry on the bed. "You're going to take us both tonight."

"How about I get him nice and ready," Sirius suggested, kneeling behind Harry. 

"You do that, Padfoot." Remus kneeled as well and stroked his half-hard cock as he watched Harry with hooded eyes. 

Sirius wasted no time and pushed Harry's legs apart with a knee while he uncapped a tube of lubricant. Harry watched back and forth between his lovers, trembling with desire. He wanted to feel them both, wanted to feel them stretch him beyond imagination and fill him with their release. 

Harry groaned at the thought of that and inhaled a sharp breath when Sirius thrust two slick fingers inside him. "God, yes," he gasped, pushing back. 

"You feel so good, Harry," Sirius whispered, opening Harry's tight entrance with expert strokes. "God, you have such a lovely arse." Pulling his fingers back out, Sirius replaced it with the head of his cock and slid inside with a few slow thrusts. 

Harry didn't have time to catch his breath because Remus pressed his prick against Harry's lips, curling his fingers in Harry's hair. 

"You're going to suck me, take me in all the way while Sirius fucks you until you're ready to take us both, understood?"

Nodding, Harry darted his tongue out and licked at the head of Remus' cock once before wrapping his lips around it and swallowing it down as far as he could. 

"Bloody hell!"

Suddenly hearing Ron's voice had a most peculiar effect on Harry. He choked on Remus' cock and clenched his arse around Sirius' prick, drawing deep groans from both of them. 

"Oh my god!"

Hearing Hermione didn't make Harry feel any better and he let Remus' cock slip from his mouth while he froze between his lovers, unable to move a muscle. 

"Oh, this does explain a lot."

"Yeah, it sure does."

Apparently, they had brought Neville and Ginny along on their field trip. 

"What the hell are you doing to him?" Ron asked, reaching for his wand. 

"What does it look like we're doing to him?" Sirius replied irritably, still buried deep inside Harry. 

"Sirius, hush," Remus said in his usual calm voice. "If you four can give us a minute, we'll explain everything."

"Oh my god!" Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes as round as saucers. Then she spun around on her feet and hurried down the stairs. 

Ron seemed oblivious of her sudden departure as he kept staring daggers at both Remus and Sirius. 

"Ron, wait for us downstairs, if you will," Remus asked politely. "Give us a moment to get dressed."

"All right," Ron finally agreed. He followed Neville and Ginny out, leaving Harry feeling more embarrassed than he ever had in his entire life. 

Groaning, Harry lowered his face, pressing his forehead to the bed as Sirius pulled out of him. "I can't believe them. They must have followed me," he whispered desperately. "I really can't believe they just walked in on us."

Sirius laughed, stroking Harry's back before he got up. "Cheer up. Friends walk in on each other all the time. Merlin knows how often your father caught Remus and me in the act."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Harry wondered aloud while he glanced up at Sirius. "Being with you two is something I really did not want my friends to see. Ever."

"Yes, it is a rather embarrassing situation," Remus agreed, reaching for his robes. "But it's done now. We'd best explain ourselves before they decide to report Sirius and me for child molestation."

"I'm not a child," Harry muttered, the embarrassment he felt worsened by the irritation of having his friends follow him around. 

"Of course you're not," Sirius said, stepping into his boots. "That doesn't mean they can't report it if they believe we're hurting you."

"Ah, bugger," Harry sighed. He still felt embarrassed at being caught like that, but the more he thought about it, the angrier he got, his chest constricting and his throat burning. "If they dare report this to anyone I'll – "

"Harry, calm down." Remus looked at him with a worried frown and stroked his cheek once. "No one is going to report anything. We're going downstairs now to explain ourselves."

"All right." Harry closed the last of his buttons on his robes and followed Remus and Sirius out of the room and down the steps. 

Ron, Neville and Ginny stood in the middle of the room, huddled together; Ron looked pissed off, Neville looked faintly ill and Ginny looked intrigued. 

"So," Ron said, crossing his arms. 

Harry stood between Sirius and Remus and regarded his friend for a moment, pushing back unreasonable surges of rage that ignited in his chest and spread throughout his body. 

"The short version. I'm with them. Have been since the summer. And it's none of your business," Harry said, his tone colder than he'd meant it to be. "And what the hell were you following me for?"

"You were acting very strange," Neville said, shifting nervously on his feet. "We thought you might be in trouble."

"But instead you're just shagging your godfather," Ron said, glaring at Sirius. "And your former professor. Nice going, Harry."

"Easy there, Ron," Sirius growled, but Remus put his hand on Sirius' shoulder to silence him. 

"What goes on between the three of us is, as Harry already said, none of your business, Mr Weasley," Remus said with a pleasant smile. "All you have to know is it is entirely consensual."

"I don't care what it is," Ron snapped, looking rather desperate. "You can't be shagging your godfather, Harry."

"And why ever not? His cock fits my arse perfectly, as you have all seen," Harry snarled back, ignoring Remus' hand squeezing his shoulder in a gesture to calm down. 

Neville swallowed, staring at the floor. 

"Because it's sick!" Ron yelled. 

"Ron, shut up," Ginny suddenly snapped, glaring at her brother. Ron glared right back but didn't say anything else. Ginny took a deep breath and looked at Harry. "If this is what you want, Harry, I'm happy for you."

Harry felt some of the hot anger melt away. "Thanks," he whispered. "It is what I want."

"But how can you...?" Ron trailed off, looked at Harry in shock, and then rubbed his hands across his face.

"I imagine it was quite a shock to find out this way," Remus said. Both Neville and Ginny nodded. "But Harry is old enough to know what he wants, as are Sirius and I. What we decide to do together is up to us. And just for your information, Mr Weasley, there isn't a law against a godfather and a godson having an intimate relationship. It's perfectly legal."

Ron whimpered and finally looked at Harry again. He opened his mouth to say something, but after a moment he closed it again and just nodded. Harry nodded back, and then realized Hermione wasn't there anymore. 

"Where's Hermione?" he asked. 

"Oh, mate, you can't expect her to stick around after what we saw," Ron said, apparently having found his voice again. 

"Huh?" Harry said, frowning in confusion. 

"Come on, she's got a big crush on you," Ron said, giving Harry a knowing smile. 

"Huh?" Harry said again, feeling as if Ron had just slapped him in the face. 

"She's quite infatuated with you," Ginny said. "Has been for over a year now."

Harry heard Sirius chuckle beside him, but all he could do was stare at Ginny as if she'd just sprouted another head.

"You didn't know?" Ron asked, catching on to Harry's bewilderment. 

"No," Harry said, his voice oddly constricted. "How can she have a crush on me when I told you all I'm more interested in blokes?"

"Um...Harry, did you tell her?" Ginny asked. "I didn't know until just now. Although I've always had my suspicions."

Harry frowned and thought about that. "But...I told you and Neville," he said to Ron. 

"Yeah, you did. And you also told us not to tell anyone," Ron replied, shrugging. "So we didn't. I only told Bill because he also swings that way, partially."

"I didn't even tell Ginny," Neville said, giving Ginny a small smile. 

"Oh, bloody hell," Harry sighed. He glanced up at Sirius and Remus. "I guess I forgot to tell her."

Sirius laughed, but Remus gave Harry an almost stern look, his brow furrowed. "Perhaps you should go and have a talk with her then."

"Whatever for?" Harry asked, nonplussed. Sirius laughed louder, slapping Harry on the back.

"I think she could use an explanation, Harry," Remus said.

"Oh." Harry had no idea what he should say to her. The idea of Hermione having a crush on him made him feel queasy.

"I can't believe you didn't tell her," Ron said, looking both amused and annoyed. 

"Yeah, well, I've been busy," Harry grumbled. 

"Oh yes," Ginny agreed with a wide smile. "We can see that now, how you've been busy in here."

"You have no idea," Sirius said with a smug grin. Remus elbowed him, but smiled nonetheless. 

Harry was still feeling too confused to find any of it amusing. He reached for his bag and pulled the Marauder's Map out. "I'll just have a talk with her," he said, and tapped his wand against the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.

"She's in the Astronomy Tower," Harry concluded after he studied the map. He looked up at Sirius and Remus. "Will you wait for me?"

"We'll be here when you get back," Sirius assured him, still looking far too pleased for Harry's liking. 

"Be kind to her," Remus said. Harry shrugged and picked up his invisibility cloak. 

"We'll walk with you back to the castle," Ron offered. 

"Nice to see you again, Professor Lupin," Ginny said and waved goodbye. 

"You too, Ginny," Remus said. Harry caught his smile but failed to return it, since he was too preoccupied with the idea of having to talk to Hermione. 

"So this was your big secret, then?" Ron asked as they walked through the tunnel, lighting the way with their wands. 

"Yeah," Harry said. Not a complete lie, he reasoned, since Sirius and Remus were part of his secret. 

"I can definitely see why you'd want them," Ginny mused. Neville made a choking sound. "Well, honestly," she continued, "they both look rather good. And Professor Lupin sure has nothing to be ashamed of."

"Ginny!" Ron shrieked. 

Neville stared at Ginny, his face paling. "You think they look good?"

"It's hard not to notice they are both quite fit," Ginny said, and shrugged. "But they are far too old for my liking," she added to Neville. 

Harry listened quietly to his friends' exchange. It wasn't until they reached the front doors of the castle that he spoke again. 

"I'll see you later. We can talk then, if you like," he said, fidgeting with the map in his hands. 

"All right," Ron said. Neville nodded, and Ginny gave him a reassuring smile. 

Harry turned left to the Astronomy Tower, and with every step he took on the immense staircase he felt his legs grow heavier and heavier. He still had no idea what he should say to Hermione. Merlin, he hoped she wouldn't be crying, because he had no clue how to handle that. Finally, he reached the door and pushed it open. 

Hermione sat looking out the large window. 

"Mind if I join you?" Harry asked, cursing himself for the tremble in his voice. 

Hermione nodded, but stayed silent. 

"So..." Harry shuffled inside, worrying his bottom lip. "I'm kinda gay." 

"I got that impression," Hermione said. Harry saw she was dabbing her eyes with a small handkerchief, and he felt his stomach drop. 

"Okay, I'm not really gay, 'cause I like girls too, but I like Sirius and Remus more," he babbled, trying to keep his erratic breathing under control. 

"Harry, relax, or you'll start hyperventilating," Hermione said, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. Harry swallowed. "I'll be fine. I'm just a bit shocked, that's all."

Harry released a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "Yeah, I guess I forgot to tell you I was feeling more interested in men. Sorry about that."

"It's okay, really," Hermione sighed, folding her handkerchief. 

Harry sat down on the windowsill. "You know, even if I wasn't with Sirius and Remus, I don't think I'd ever feel something like that for you," he said softly, choosing his words with care. "I mean, you're like my sister."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

Pursing his lips, Harry wondered what he should say next. He still felt lost about the whole situation and he was grateful when Hermione continued their conversation. 

"So you're with Sirius and Remus?"

"Yeah. Have been since the summer." 

"But, Harry, they are twice your age," Hermione said, frowning at him. 

"So?" Harry tried not to feel irritated, but it was hard to keep that emotion at bay. "Look, I don't care what anyone thinks of it. They make me happy."

"Do they?" Hermione regarded him curiously.

"Yeah, they do. It feels good to be with them," Harry said honestly.

"I can think of at least a dozen objections," Hermione said. Harry was about to protest when she continued. "But you are an adult wizard, so I suppose it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks."

Harry nodded and stared at the floor, unsure if he should say something else. He didn't think there was anything left to say, and Hermione seemed to agree with him. 

"I'm going to stay here for a while, Harry. You can go back if you like."

"Oh. Okay." Harry rose and was already halfway to the door when he remembered Remus' words. "I'm sorry," he said. "Will you be all right?"

"Yes, I'll be fine. Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Hermione," Harry replied and hurried out of the door. He couldn't help feeling relieved she hadn't burst into tears or something equally dramatic.

"How did it go?" Remus asked when Harry climbed through the trapdoor of the Shack. 

Shrugging, Harry joined his lovers on the couch, settling between them. "Was all right, I suppose. She didn't cry. Much."

"Then why the sour look?" Sirius asked, handing Harry a bottle of butterbeer. 

Harry took a gulp, thinking about Sirius' question. "I dunno," he finally said, glancing up at Sirius, unsure how to say what he was thinking. "Just some stuff Ron said made me feel uncomfortable."

"What stuff?"

"The stuff about you being my godfather," Harry whispered. 

Sirius let his head fall to the back of the couch, releasing a heavy breath. "Remus was right, you know. It's not illegal."

"I know that," Harry said, staring at the floor. "But it just got me thinking about my mum and dad and such."

"Ah," Sirius sighed. He slid his arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him closer. "You know, Harry, when you were born I was so bloody proud. I was also scared to death, because I had no idea what to do with a baby."

Harry smiled despite the insecurity he felt. 

"But I was honoured they'd made me your godfather, and I planned on being the best godfather in the entire world. I wanted to be there for every important occasion in your life. I wanted you to come stay with your Uncle Padfoot and your Uncle Moony during the holidays – and yeah, I was sure Remus and I would get back together again, eventually – and I wanted to spoil you rotten during Christmas. Buy you your first racing broom, take you on trips on my bike, teach you all the pranks we knew. I wanted to watch you grow up and be there for you every step of the way."

Sirius fell silent for a moment and swallowed, licking his lips. "But things didn't happen that way, did they?"

Harry slowly shook his head, leaning against Sirius, basking in the comforting heat of his body. 

"I never got to watch you grow up. And when I did see you again, twelve years later, you were your own person, not just my godson. And the more I got to know you, the more I started seeing you as you, not just as James' and Lily's son. I couldn't help starting to feel this way for you. Merlin knows I tried not to, but..." Sirius trailed off, briefly closing his eyes. 

"When did you, you know, started feeling that way?" Harry asked softly. 

"At the end of your fourth year. When I saw you in the hospital wing. That's when I first realized I felt more for you than just parental feelings. When I almost lost you."

"You came to stay with me after that," Remus added quietly. "You should have seen him, Harry. He was a wreck and he beat himself up over his feelings for you."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, squeezing Harry's shoulders. "But no matter how much I tried to stop those feelings, they didn't disappear. They only grew stronger, even when I got back together with Remus."

Harry frowned and glanced up at Remus. "You knew?"

"Yes, I knew." Remus smiled, stroking Harry's thigh. "But as I told you this summer, I also knew that a person can love more than one other person. It was never an issue for me."

"So, to make a long story short," Sirius said and cleared his throat. "Would we have felt differently about you if we'd been your Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony? Probably. But we aren't. We're just three blokes who have a connection through old friends but who care for each other for different reasons." Sirius put his hand over his heart. "I know what we have isn't wrong. Because it feels right. In here."

Harry wrapped his arms around Sirius' neck and hugged him, feeling the strange urge to want to crawl inside Sirius and stay there for a very long time. 

"Is that what you needed to hear, Harry?" Sirius asked, pressing his face against Harry's hair. 

"Yeah," Harry sighed.

Sirius released him and looked down at him, smiling, before he glanced up at Remus. "Now it's your turn for a pathetic confession."

"Harry and I already had this conversation over the summer," Remus said evenly, but his gleaming eyes betrayed his amusement. Sirius just glared at him. 

"Your turn then, Harry." Sirius nudged Harry with his elbow. 

Harry gulped. "Um..."

"Come on. You can't let me be the only one getting all choked up here," Sirius said, nudging Harry again. 

Harry took a swig of his butterbeer and studied the label. "It was this summer, obviously. But I've always liked you. Both of you. You've always made me feel like my own person, not just a boy who is famous for his ridiculous scar. And you both have always looked out for me. Made me feel safe." Harry frowned. "And I've always thought you were both good-looking." He glanced up at Sirius. "Well, maybe not you right after you escaped from Azkaban, but later on, yeah, definitely."

Sirius buried his face in his hands and snorted with laughter. "I can't tell you how happy it makes me to know you are worse at this than I am," he finally said, and laughed again. 

"I'm feeling sorry for Hermione right now," Remus said, and hiccupped as he tried not to laugh. 

Harry felt his cheeks flush and glared at them both, but Sirius pushed him down, right on top of Remus. 

"You're brilliant, Harry," he said, his amused grin morphing into a warm smile. 

"I love you," Harry blurted, and then felt shocked he'd said it like that. He usually only whispered it after they'd had sex, when his brain was mush from an overload of pleasure and he couldn't really be held accountable for anything he let slip. 

Sirius swallowed and released a shaky breath. "I love you too," he whispered.

"There, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" Remus teased. Sirius punched him in the shoulder. 

"Is this the part where we confess our secret crushes and paint our nails and giggle like girls all night?" Sirius asked. Harry giggled, then realized he had giggled and quickly shut up. Grinning, Sirius ruffled his hair. "We'll make a man out of you yet, Potter."

Harry smiled, relaxing against Remus with Sirius lying half on top of him. All his previous worries and tension were gone and even the memory of his friends walking in on them seemed a distant one.


	8. Chapter 7

The full moon was still the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen and he couldn't stop staring at it. 

"Blue, over here," Sirius said from where he sat on a tree trunk. 

Harry turned and looked at Sirius. He knew he was supposed to be practicing Legilimency now. But all the colours and sounds around him were so distracting, not to mention the full moon shining down on them. 

Since Harry had accidentally got it right with Remus two weeks ago, he'd managed to penetrate both Sirius and Remus' mind while staying in the present a few times more. Which was why Dumbledore had suggested he should try to penetrate Sirius' mind while he was in his wolf form, just to see if he could. 

Moony had led them to the small clearing after they'd spent a few hours chasing each other through the Forbidden Forest.

Harry glanced around and saw Moony sniffing at the bottom of a tree before raising his leg and peeing against it. Harry had to fight the odd urge to trot over there and pee against the tree as well.

"Blue," Sirius said again, waving him over. 

Sighing, Harry padded towards Sirius and tried to block all the colours and scents out of his mind. Instead, he concentrated on Sirius' eyes. They were a different shade of blue now that Harry saw them through his wolf eyes, but they were still familiar and they made him feel safe. 

Legilimens, he thought as hard as he could. The word sounded odd in his lupine mind, and for a moment nothing happened. And then Harry felt a flare of excitement and trepidation that could very well be Sirius'. But those feelings vanished quickly and Harry shook his furry body to steady himself.

"I think you almost got it right," Sirius said, and stretched his legs lazily. "Try again."

Again Harry focused on Sirius' eyes and thought Legilimens as hard as he could. This time he felt his mind being sucked into the dark void of Sirius' mind, and he literally jumped back to break the connection.

"A bit too much," Sirius said with a smile, running a hand through his hair. "You can do it, Blue. Try again."

Harry huffed, wagging his tail. But right as Harry gazed into Sirius' eyes again, he smelled something. Moony must have smelled it as well, because he growled, low and threateningly. Instantly, Sirius transformed into Padfoot and raised his muzzle, sniffing the air. Harry did the same, and the faint stench of death entered his nose. 

Moony kept growling, his ears perking up before he pressed them to his head again. Harry sidled closer to Padfoot, unsure what was happening. He'd never smelled that scent before and he had no idea what it meant; he only knew it made him feel very uncomfortable. 

And then a new scent drifted across the clearing, musky and masculine, and Harry recognized that smell instantly. 

The scent of another werewolf. 

Baring his teeth, Moony walked backwards to Padfoot and Harry on stiff legs, his hackles raised. Padfoot's pricked ears twisted back and forth, trying to pick up any suspicious sounds. Panting, Harry looked around, the unfamiliar wolf's scent getting stronger and stronger. 

A pair of bright, amber eyes lit up in the darkness, and as the wolf slowly approached them the rest of his massive body became visible. He was big, even bigger than Moony, and his fur was a deep red-brown, mixed with light-brown accents that gave him the typical lupine markings on his head. 

Harry had seen that werewolf before and when he realized where, his heartbeat sped up and he started growling as well, though not as loudly as Moony. 

It was the wolf he'd seen in Remus' memories. The wolf who had infected Remus. 

Moony's growls were so deep and loud now that they vibrated through Harry's skin straight into his body.

The wolf halted for a moment, cocked his head at the three of them and then wandered off to the tree Moony had marked only moments before. He sniffed it and raised his leg, placing his own mark over Moony's. Harry felt a sharp surge of anger at the sight and wanted to approach the wolf, but a snap of Padfoot's jaws held him back. 

Moony raised his tail stiffly and glared at the wolf with narrowed eyes, but the wolf took no notice and started walking towards them, his own tail held up as well. Moony's lips were raised so high that his entire muzzle was wrinkled, his teeth glittering in the soft light of the moon.

Glancing at Padfoot, Harry wondered what was going to happen. The wolf showed no signs of aggression, only of dominance, but by the looks of it, Moony had no intention of accepting the new wolf's dominant position.

The wolf circled them slowly, his steps calculated and his head cocked. He wagged his high tail a few times and Harry felt his own tail answer with a few insecure wags. Moony lowered his head, his tail still completely still, and stiffly, Moony started walking towards the other wolf. 

But the wolf ignored Moony and walked around him towards Harry and Padfoot, his sharp gaze fixed on Harry. Padfoot quickly positioned himself between Harry and the wolf, raising his lips in a clear warning not to come closer. The wolf stopped, glanced at Moony and then back at Harry. And then, when the wolf took another step towards Harry, Moony attacked. 

Harry felt himself stiffen at the sight of Moony biting down at the wolf's neck. But the wolf was stronger than Moony and fought back, snapping his jaws at Moony's snout. This got Padfoot riled up and he threw himself at the two fighting wolves. And what followed was a wild, chaotic mix of red, grey and black fur flying, three massive bodies pushing and three sets of sharp teeth pulling and tearing, the sound of loud growls and snapping jaws filling the air. 

Whining, Harry paced at a safe distance, unsure what to do. Part of him wanted to join his pack mates and chase the unwanted wolf away. Another part of him was scared and accepted the dominant status of the new wolf. It was the sight of Padfoot's bloody muzzle that made up Harry's mind, and he braced himself to join the battle when that strange scent hit his nose again. This time it was accompanied by a rustle of leaves somewhere behind Harry. 

The stench of death was overwhelming now, and it made Harry salivate while a shiver crawled down his spine. It made him feel so uncomfortable that he raised his head and howled, needing reassurance from his pack mates that he was safe. 

Padfoot answered his cry first, tearing himself away from the fight. He was quickly followed by Moony, who snapped his jaws at the wolf one last time and then howled once before he took off into the dark forest around them. Harry followed him immediately, Padfoot close behind, and they ran all the way back to the Shrieking Shack. 

Inside, Moony paced the living room restlessly, the fur on his head sticky with saliva and blood. Padfoot sat quietly, licking the wounds on his front legs. And Harry felt lost. Eventually, he joined Padfoot and let his wolf instincts take over. He licked Padfoot's muzzle, cleaning the cuts with care.

When Harry felt the pull of the descending moon, Moony finally stopped pacing and trotted up the stairs. Harry followed him into the bedroom and lay down beside him on the bed. When he wanted to lick Moony's wounded muzzle, Moony growled at him and Harry quickly drew back, resting his head on his front paws. He heard Sirius enter and glanced at him, noticing the cuts on Sirius' face and neck. Sirius smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed, stroking Harry's fur. 

The pain struck and Harry howled, his body convulsing as it underwent the torturous transformation back to its human form. He tried not to fight it and just gave into the strain and the distress, the stretch of his skin and the pull on his bones. And after an eternity of agony, Harry lay panting on the bed, his body limp and exhausted. 

"What was he doing in the forest?" Sirius asked. 

Harry blinked and turned his head, wondering what Sirius was talking about. 

"I don't know," Remus whispered, his voice hoarse. "I hadn't expected him to seek us out like that."

"Who?" Harry grunted, pushing himself up on his elbows, wincing at the pain that rippled through his body. 

"No one," Remus said, looking past Harry at Sirius.

"The wolf," Harry sighed. "Who was that wolf?"

"Just a werewolf prancing around the forest," Sirius said, smiling. But his smile didn't reach his eyes, which narrowed as he looked at Remus. 

"Don't fucking lie to me," Harry snapped, feeling anger rise in his chest through the blinding pain. "I've seen that wolf before. It's the wolf that infected you." He glared at Remus. 

"That werewolf is bad news, Harry," Remus whispered, pushing himself upright, his arms trembling under his own weight. 

"That werewolf did nothing wrong," Harry countered. "You're the one who attacked him!"

"Harry, stop it," Sirius growled. "Trust us when we say that mutt is bad news."

"How the hell can I trust you when you won't even tell me who he is?"

"We don't want him to know who you are and we don't want you to know who he is. It's safer that way, Harry," Remus said, his voice strained. 

"Let me heal those cuts, Moony," Sirius said, completely ignoring Harry's outraged look. He took out his wand and pointed it at the scratches and teeth marks on Remus' face, but Harry, who sat between them, slapped his arm away. 

"Tell me!" he demanded. 

"Harry," Sirius said warningly, his blue eyes darkening with unspoken anger. 

"Don't fucking Harry me," Harry snarled, trying to push himself off the bed on his unsteady legs. 

"Don't you use that bloody tone with me!" Sirius yelled, tightening his fingers around his wand. 

"Harry, please, trust us," Remus sighed, running his shaking hands through his dirt-streaked hair. 

"I'm getting sick and tired of hearing that!" Harry shouted.

"And I'm getting sick and tired of having to deal with your snotty attitude!" Sirius wanted to grab Harry's arm, but Harry pulled out of his reach and got up. For a moment, he threatened to fall over but he caught himself on the doorpost. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Sirius asked, drawing out every word. 

"I'm going to watch the match," Harry said. Then he looked over his shoulder at Sirius and Remus. "So you two can have your little chat about things you don't want me to know," he added viciously. 

"Harry, you are in no condition to go anywhere," Sirius said, his voice softer now. 

"As if you care," Harry whispered and stumbled out of the room. 

He heard Sirius move as if to follow him, but then Remus said, "Let him go, Padfoot."

Harry forced his body into action and descended the stairs one calculated step at a time, his hand tight around the banister to keep his balance. His entire body ached and protested his movements, but Harry was determined to make it to where his robes, glasses and bag lay on the couch. Grabbing hold of the armrest, Harry took a few shaky breaths, fighting the pain and dizziness with the searing anger he felt for both Sirius and Remus at that moment. 

He wasn't a complete idiot. He could add one plus one. That wolf they'd encountered in the forest had to be that man from the Three Broomsticks. Why did Remus and Sirius believe it was so important Harry didn't know who he was? Why did they insist on treating him like a bloody child? They had no problems shagging him silly every other night, but apparently he was too young to know the name of an anonymous werewolf. 

The more Harry thought about it, the more determined he became to get out of there as fast as he could, despite his body's protests. At that moment, he hated Remus and Sirius and wanted to get as far away from them as he could. Fuck them and their bloody secret. 

With difficulty, Harry pulled on his robes. It took him twice as long as it normally did to button them up because his fingers wouldn't stop trembling. He stepped into his shoes, shouldered his bag and shuffled towards the trapdoor. Pulling it open was hard and lowering himself through it seemed impossible, but Harry managed it, though he had to pause at the bottom of the stairs to catch his breath.

One step at a time, Harry walked through the tunnel, his knees bucking while he sought support on the rough, stone walls. It took him forever to reach the hidden passageway, and when he finally managed to climb out he stared at the immense stretch of grass that lay between him and the castle. He swallowed. And then he braced himself and again took one step at a time as he stumbled rather than walked towards the large, oak doors.

By the time he finally reached them, the castle was bustling with activity. Harry heard students chatter excitedly about the upcoming match and he felt a sharp pang of disappointment through the throbbing pain in his entire body.

"Harry!" Ron bounced down the large staircase, closely followed by Ginny and Dean. "We almost thought you weren't going to make it."

Harry tried to smile at them and wondered how on earth he was supposed to tell them he couldn't play. 

"Mate, you look ill. Are you all right?" Ron looked him over once, leaning on his broom. 

"I think I'm getting the flu," Harry croaked. 

"No! Not now! You can't get seriously ill just now." Ron sounded desperate and both Ginny and Dean stared at Harry quietly. Harry thought he saw disappointment written across their faces. 

He'd promised Sirius and Remus he wouldn't play. Part of him didn't want to break that promise. But a larger part of him was so pissed off at Sirius and Remus that he couldn't really care. 

"Ron, do me a favour," Harry whispered, briefly closing his eyes against a bout of dizziness. "Fetch my broom for me, will you? I'll go get something for my flu and I'll see you on the pitch."

"Sure thing!" Ron rushed up the stairs. 

"Do you want me to walk you to the infirmary, Harry?" Ginny asked. 

"Nah. I'll just be a minute. I'll see you on the pitch." Without waiting for their reply, Harry forced his legs to carry him across the Entrance Hall. It wasn't until he rounded the corner that he made a grab for the wall to keep his balance. 

When he neared the infirmary, Harry glanced around and, after making sure he was alone, pulled his invisibility cloak from his bag. Covering himself, he pushed the infirmary doors open and peered inside. 

Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen. Harry took a deep breath and sneaked towards Pomfrey's small office where she kept her potions. She wasn't there either, and Harry opened the door with a whispered 'Alohomora.' 

Listening for any signs of Pomfrey's arrival, Harry glanced around the office and located the Potions cupboard. He pulled it open and rummaged through the small vials until he found the pain-killing potion Dumbledore had offered him the previous month. Harry downed it and stuffed the empty vial in the pocket of his robes before he went in search for Pepperup. 

He found five vials and he quickly drank one. And while the pain-killing potion started doing its work, the Pepperup seemed to have little effect on his exhausted mind. That wouldn't do. He wouldn't be able to concentrate like this. Harry unscrewed another vial, downed it, waited for results that didn't come, and then drank another. And another. 

Finally, the fog in his mind seemed to clear and Harry stuffed the last vial of Pepperup in his robes, just in case. 

Feeling better and with the worst of his aches gone, Harry hurried out of the infirmary as fast as he could. The changing room was empty, but his Firebolt stood against the bench where Ron had left it for him. Harry changed into his Quidditch gear, ignored his stiff muscles and the odd sting that burned in his chest, and ran towards the pitch, his Firebolt locked securely under his arm. 

"And here I thought you'd chickened out," Malfoy drawled when Harry joined the Quidditch players gathered around Madam Hooch. 

"You wish," Harry said. 

"Glad you could join us, Potter," Hooch said, balancing her foot on the ebony box in which the Bludgers rattled against their restraints. "I expect a fair game, from all of you. On your brooms."

Harry swung his leg over his Firebolt and kicked off, the cool November wind a refreshing welcome on the heated skin of his face. He heard the crowd in the stands cheer but he tried to ignore those sounds and instead concentrated on the moment Hooch would release the balls. 

Hooch blew her whistle and the game was on. Ginny snatched the Quaffle and when Crabbe beat a Bludger in her direction, she passed it to Dean, who dodged Goyle and flew towards the goal posts. 

"Gryffindor scores!" Seamus' voice echoed around the pitch. 

Scanning the field, Harry tried to locate the Snitch. He knew the potions wouldn't keep him up for hours and he planned on finding and catching the Snitch as fast as he could. And after that he planned on sleeping for at least twenty-four hours. 

Malfoy hovered in the air on the other side of the pitch and Harry kept half an eye on him while he searched for the Snitch. He flew higher to get a better view of the field, and when he glanced at the scoreboard he noticed Gryffindor had scored a total of three times, Slytherin close behind with a score of twenty. 

"Malfoy has spotted the Snitch!"

Seamus' voice goaded Harry into action, and he pushed his Firebolt into a dive to where Malfoy chased behind the tiny, golden ball.

But just as Harry gained distance on Malfoy, the faint sting that had been burning inside his chest morphed into a sharp flare of pain that blazed through his body and cut off his breath. 

The Snitch. He could see it now, even though his vision got blurry around the edges. Harry forced air into his lungs past the restriction in his wind pipe and pushed his Firebolt forward faster, seeing nothing but the Snitch darting a few feet in front of him. Blood pounded in his ears and his heart hammered in his chest, trying to break its way out of his body, or so it felt. But Harry kept his gaze on the Snitch, gritted his teeth against the overwhelming pain and reached out a hand while he steered his Firebolt down in a steep dive, Malfoy right by his side. 

He was so close he could feel the Snitch's wings flutter against his fingertips. So very, very close, only another inch and it would be his. Harry tried to curl his fingers around the tiny ball when his body suddenly cramped and his heart felt as if it had exploded inside his chest right before the hammering stopped and only silence was left inside his mind. 

The last thing Harry saw before darkness overtook him was Malfoy's hand closing around the Snitch. 

What followed was a surreal dream of his parents, surrounded by the brightest light Harry had ever seen. 

_It's not your time yet, Harry._

_But I want to stay with you._

_No, not yet. Go to Padfoot and Moony. They'll take care of you._

_Please._

_Go, Harry. Turn around and go back._

_But..._

_Sshh. No buts. Go back._

The urge to stay with his parents in that brilliant light that warmed him and welcomed him was immense, but his parents insisted. His mother smiled and his father looked proud, but they both told him to turn around.

_I don't think Sirius and Remus want me anymore._

_Nonsense, dear._

_Of course they want you._

_They love you._

_I was horrible to them._

_He really does take after you._

_Lily!_

_We love you, Harry._

_You make us proud._

_Go. Live._

The light vanished, leaving Harry in darkness, alone. 

_Mum? Dad?_

Nothing. Darkness. Cold. So cold. 

He had to find Sirius and Remus. That's what his parents had told him. Go back to Sirius and Remus. Harry waded through darkness, thick and strong, and he felt tired, so tired. He wanted to stop, lie down and never move again, but he had to go on, because he had to find Sirius and Remus. 

And then, finally, he saw the dim light of the full moon and he was in the Forbidden Forest, running with Moony and Padfoot, chasing and howling and mating and licking. The scent of moist forest soil, the brush of leaves across his muzzle, and the full moon was there as well.

"I think he's waking up."

Remus. 

Remus was there. 

"Looks like it."

And Sirius. 

Harry struggled to break free of invisible bonds that held him back. He had to go to Sirius and Remus. They were so close. Harry could hear them, smell them, but he wanted to see them, touch them. Just a bit further, just a bit more. 

Harry's eyes flew open and he stared up at a familiar, dark ceiling, slightly blurred. 

"Harry?"

Letting his head fall to the side, Harry tried to focus on that voice. Remus smiled at him, his face pale, with tired lines around his eyes. Harry stared at him for a moment, unable to move even the tiniest muscle. Then he forced his head around and looked at the blurry figure standing in the corner of the room. 

Sirius looked at him, jaw clenched and his arms crossed over his chest. Harry wanted him to smile as well, silently tell him everything was all right. But Sirius looked away, walked out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. 

"Just give him a minute," Remus said, and Harry felt Remus' hand squeeze his own. He tried to squeeze back but his fingers were too weak.

"Here," Remus said and gently lifted Harry's head off the pillow, pressing a glass of water against his lips. Harry drank eagerly, only just now realizing how thirsty he was. After he was done, Remus dabbed his mouth dry with a napkin. 

"What...what happened?" Harry asked, his throat still dry despite the water. 

"The short version? You died." Remus' voice sounded strained and his expression hardened. 

"Huh?" Harry managed, dumbfounded. 

"You died, Harry. Your heart failed."

"What?"

"The combination of your recent transformation, your overdose of Pepperup and the strain you put on yourself during the match caused your heart to give up."

Harry felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach and all the air was driven out of his lungs. He gaped at Remus, clueless as to how to reply to that. Remus answered him with a gentle smile, which softened his features but did little to make Harry feel better. 

"It took the combined expertise of Dumbledore, Pomfrey and Snape to bring you back and keep you alive long enough for your body to start healing. They've kept you asleep for five days, to give your body a chance to recover."

"God," Harry breathed. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment Harry was afraid it might explode again. 

"Breathe, Harry," Remus said, and reached for a small vial on the bedside table. "Drink this."

Harry obeyed, and quietly uncorked the vial. He sniffed it but didn't recognize the smell, and then drank it slowly. It tasted of sour oranges and made his eyes tear up. Remus offered him another drink of water, which Harry accepted gratefully. As he drank, he glanced around the room, trying to make out the blurry shapes. 

"Where am I?" he asked, letting Remus dry his mouth and chin. 

"Home," Remus said. "We thought it better to bring you here after the first day. It was too risky to keep you in the infirmary, as they frequently needed to discuss your condition while figured out how best to heal you."

"Ah." Harry frowned. "So Pomfrey knows about me, then?"

"Yes. Dumbledore told her."

They stayed quiet for a moment, Remus stroking Harry's hand and Harry trying to process what Remus had just told him. He'd died. His heart had stopped. He'd died. Bloody hell. He surely hadn't meant to die, but somehow Harry thought that wouldn't be a good enough excuse for his lovers. 

He'd broken his promise and he'd died. There was a lesson to be learned there, Harry realized, but he felt too tired to take any real notice of it. 

And just as Harry wanted to ask Remus more, the door slammed open and Sirius stalked into the room. Harry tried not to notice Sirius' red-rimmed eyes when he leaned over Harry, hands pressed against the bed beside Harry's head and his breath warm on Harry's face. 

"If you ever do something like that again, I will kill you myself."

Even though Harry knew Sirius would never hurt him, Sirius' quiet voice but harsh tone sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine. 

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered, feeling himself choke up but he swallowed it away. 

Sirius grabbed him in a tight hug and Harry didn't care that it hurt every bone in his body because he wanted to feel Sirius hold him like that. 

"I can handle a lot of things, Harry, but I can't handle you killing yourself over a row we had and a stupid game," Sirius whispered into Harry's hair and Harry nodded against his shoulder. 

"I'm so sorry," Harry mumbled again and he did feel sorry, because he sure as hell hadn't meant to die when he'd decided to play.

Sirius pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead and let him go, sitting down on the foot of the bed. 

Staring down at the sheets, Harry worried his bottom lip, feeling both Remus' and Sirius' eyes on him. And then he remembered the odd dream he'd had and he glanced up. 

"I saw my parents...when I was out," he whispered. 

Sirius made an choking sound, but Remus looked intrigued. "Did you now?"

"Yeah. They said I had to go back. That I had to find you two." Harry lowered his gaze again, wondering if it had been a dream or not. It had felt like a dream, but then again, dying had felt like a dream as well. 

"You did well, then," Remus said, and when Harry looked at him with a confused frown he added, "You found us."

Harry smiled and he wanted to say more, but his eyelids were so heavy and the pillow beneath his head felt so soft that he couldn't stay awake one moment longer. 

"Sleep, Harry. We'll be here when you wake up," he heard Remus say from a distance, and then he was back in the forest, Moony and Padfoot by his side, and they ran and howled, played and chased, and Harry forgot about dying because he'd never felt so alive.

*~*~*~*~*

When he woke up again, Remus helped him sit up and offered him a bowl of soup.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah," Harry said, sitting unsteadily against his pillows. Remus placed the tray on Harry's lap, filled a spoon with steaming soup and held it up to Harry's mouth. 

Harry looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I can eat by myself."

"Oh, by all means." Remus placed the spoon the bowl and sat back, looking at Harry with an innocent smile. 

Harry forced his arm into action and closed his trembling fingers around the spoon. He managed to scoop up some soup and raised the spoon, but his arm shook so much that he spilled all of the soup over his sheets. He looked at Remus and let out a heavy sigh. 

"Maybe I can use some help with this," he said, defeated. Remus cleaned the sheets with a flick of his wand and then proceeded to spoon-feed Harry until the bowl was empty, sporting a rather satisfied smile the whole time. 

The soup tasted wonderful and warmed Harry, though he couldn't help but feel embarrassed and useless being unable to do so much as eat a bowl of soup by himself. However, the biggest humiliation was yet to come, or so Harry discovered when Remus cleared away the empty bowl and Sirius entered the bedroom, holding a ceramic pot. 

"What's this?" Harry asked when Sirius handed him the pot. Remus left quietly, but Harry swore he saw him grin right before he stepped through the door. 

"That, my dearest Harry, is a bedpan," Sirius said. 

Harry looked at it in horror. "Oh no." 

"Oh yes." Sirius' grin was far too smug for Harry's liking. 

"Can't you just help me to the bathroom?"

"No can do. You need at least two more days of strict bed rest. Pomfrey's orders." Sirius made a gesture for Harry to hurry along. 

Harry looked at him and then stared at the bedpan. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Hell, yes." Before Harry could stop him, Sirius lifted Harry's sheets and shoved the bedpan under it. "Humiliating you is but a small reward for worrying my bloody head off for five days. Now, do you need me to hang it in for you, or can you handle that by yourself?"

"I can do it!" Harry said, trying to slap Sirius' hands away. When Sirius took a step back, Harry wormed his hands under the sheets and pulled his boxers down far enough to release his limp prick. With quite a bit of fumbling, he managed to get it positioned across the bedpan's rim, all the while studiously not looking at Sirius. 

"I can't go with you staring at me," Harry mumbled, feeling an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks. Sirius snorted, but turned around and Harry released a deep breath, trying to relax enough so he could pee. 

"Who won, anyway?" he asked conversationally.

"Slytherin. Malfoy caught the Snitch. And that serves you right." 

"Bugger," Harry sighed and finally felt his bladder give in. 

"Nothing to get those pipes going like mentioning Malfoy catching the Snitch in front of you, eh?"

"Shut up," Harry grumbled and ignored Sirius' snorts of laughter. When he was done, Sirius removed the bedpan and Harry felt exhausted, his eyes drooping shut. Before Sirius could help him lie down, Harry was already asleep.

*~*~*~*~*

The next two days were spent in the same fashion; Harry slept most of the time and when he woke up for short periods, Remus helped him eat and Sirius was always there to terrorize him with the bedpan and wash him up a bit. It wasn't until the third day that Sirius finally helped Harry out of bed. Leaning on Sirius, Harry shuffled towards the bathroom, looking forward to peeing in a toilet again.

After he'd relieved himself, Sirius undressed them both and turned on the shower. Harry closed his eyes and sighed when he felt the warm water wash down on him, and he leaned against Sirius, enjoying the feeling of Sirius' warm, wet skin against his own and Sirius' strong arm around his waist, keeping him on his feet.

"Don't fall asleep on me just yet," Sirius said. 

"I'm not sleeping," Harry whispered, leaning into Sirius' touch when Sirius squirted shampoo on his head and started washing his hair. "Feels nice."

Sirius rinsed Harry's hair with careful strokes of his fingers. Harry rubbed himself against Sirius and felt Sirius harden against his stomach. 

"I'd love to shag right now, but I don't think I can stay awake long enough to come," Harry said against Sirius' shoulder and nipped at his wet skin. 

Sirius laughed. "Don't worry about it. I'll have Remus suck me off when you're asleep."

"I hate you," Harry muttered. 

"No, you don't."

"No, I don't," Harry agreed, and let Sirius help him out of the shower. The soft towel Sirius used to dry him off did nothing to help Harry stay awake, and by the time Sirius helped Harry into his bed – fresh sheets that smelled like peaches, Harry noticed absently – Harry couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He fell asleep, dreaming of Padfoot and Moony once again.

*~*~*~*~*

"We're going to clean up downstairs," Remus said, piling the empty plates onto a tray.

For the last three days, Harry had felt better and better and since that morning, he was even able to walk to the bathroom by himself. Sirius and Remus had made it a habit to have their meals with Harry in his bedroom, and now they were cleaning up the remnants of their supper. 

"We'll see you in a bit," Sirius said, and followed Remus out of the room. 

Harry leaned back against his pillows and stared at the ceiling. He didn't feel tired at all, also a sign he was getting his health back, and he felt bored out of his mind. Remus had given him a few books to read, but Harry didn't feel like reading. 

In fact, there was really only one thing Harry did feel like doing. Something he hadn't done since he'd died. Staring at the door, Harry wondered if he'd be able to have a quick wank before Sirius and Remus returned. His cock was certainly interested in the idea and hardened steadily. 

Harry reached under his sheets and slid his hand inside his boxers, curling his fingers around his growing erection. It felt nice to touch himself, as it had been an eternity since the last time Harry'd had an orgasm. Or rather, it felt like an eternity, considering the abundance of sex Harry'd had before his accident. He moved his fingers across his cock in slow strokes, drawing the moment out and letting his eyes fall shut to savour the pleasure. 

"Need a hand with that?"

Snapping his eyes open, Harry stared at Sirius, who stood in the doorway, giving him a sly smile. 

"Actually, yes," Harry said, grinning. 

"Do you think you're ready yet for a bit of action?" Sirius asked, stalking across the bedroom to Harry's bed, his eyes fixed on the bulge under Harry's sheets. 

"God, yes," Harry breathed, tugging on his prick harder, drowning in Sirius' aroused gaze. 

"Moony! Harry wants a shag!"

Releasing his prick, Harry doubled over with laughter, which only increased when Sirius tackled him to the bed. 

"You called?" Remus peered around the doorway curiously. 

"We want sex," Sirius said, holding Harry's hands above his head. Harry pretended to struggle, but in truth he loved feeling Sirius' weight on his body and Sirius' hands pinning him down. 

"Ah, well, then I suppose we'd best get to it," Remus said, and reached for the buttons on his robes. Sirius followed his example and tugged his robes off while Harry watched them both, feeling his cock get impossibly harder at the idea of finally feeling them again. 

"How do you want to do this?" Remus asked as he sat down beside Harry. "You're obviously not ready yet for a wild shag."

Sirius leaned over and whispered something into Remus' ear. The feral grin on Remus' face sent pleasant tingles to Harry's sac. 

"Roll over on your side," Remus whispered, pulling the sheets down. Harry complied and let Sirius shove his boxers off, leaving him naked between their equally naked bodies. Harry let out a soft moan. Sirius brushed his lips across Harry's and Harry caught his mouth in a searing kiss, pushing his tongue inside Sirius' mouth. It had been too long since either of his lovers had kissed him like that, since all they'd given him for the past few days had been chaste kisses on his forehead or cheeks. Harry groaned and closed his eyes when Sirius met his tongue with his own and devoured his mouth. 

Stroking Harry's skin, Remus pushed Harry's leg up, exposing his entrance. Harry felt fingertips flutter across his pucker as Remus pressed his body against Harry's back. He was lost between their touches, Remus sliding a slick finger inside him while Sirius raked his fingers through his hair and teased his nipples to hardness. Harry rubbed his pulsing cock against Sirius' thigh, but Sirius caught his hips and stilled him, pulling back from their heated kiss. Blinking his eyes open, Harry watched as Sirius shifted on the bed and then he was staring at Sirius' hard prick, feeling Sirius' breath on his own cock. 

"Oh, god," Harry moaned as Sirius sucked his cock inside his mouth inch by torturous inch. He curled his fingers around the base of Sirius' prick and licked at the head, pushing his arse back against Remus' fingers which opened him up with deft strokes. 

"Ready?" Remus asked, licking the spot below Harry's ear. Harry nodded and then pushed his tongue against the slit of Sirius' cock, teasing it with tiny licks until Sirius groaned around his own prick. 

Remus pulled his fingers out of Harry and pressed the head of his slick cock against Harry's entrance. Harry closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the feeling of a cock pushing inside both his arse and his mouth while a hot mouth sucked his own prick. His hand found Sirius' sac, and he kneaded it in time with Remus' slow thrusts. Sirius mimicked his actions and Harry pushed against his hand and into his mouth, shuddering when Remus' cock brushed across his prostate. 

Pleasure built in steady waves in Harry's sac, a teasing tension that tightened his muscles, but at the same time Harry felt as if he were melting between their familiar touches. It was so good and it had been so long, and Harry wanted to come and he never wanted it to end, and while his mind tried to decide exactly what he wanted, his body gave in and Harry trembled between their bodies, his sac drawing up and his cock spurting his release across Sirius' brilliant tongue. 

He kept sucking around Sirius' cock, feeling Sirius lick his spent prick and Remus drive in and out of him a bit faster, but still not with his usual force. Harry didn't mind, because it felt brilliant nonetheless and he rode out his orgasm while he let Sirius fuck his mouth and Remus fuck his arse. 

"God, Harry," Sirius breathed and Harry's mouth was filled with Sirius' salty release, which Harry swallowed eagerly, milking Sirius with slow strokes of his tongue while he raked his teeth across the hard flesh. Remus buried his face in Harry's hair, his arm tightening around Harry's waist, and Harry lifted his leg further to give Remus more room to thrust inside him. 

Remus climaxed with a sharp intake of breath and Harry clenched his arse around Remus' cock, warm seed filling him and confirming once again where he belonged. Harry relaxed against Remus as Remus gave a few more shallow thrusts, spilling the last of his release inside Harry. 

"Fuck, I needed that," Harry said, turning his head to give Remus a lazy kiss. Remus smiled against his lips and kissed him deeply in return. 

"We all needed that," Sirius said, shifting on the bed so he was facing Harry again. "Worrying you might die doesn't exactly make a bloke horny, you know."

Harry had the decency to look sorry, but only for a moment, and then he snickered.

"Anyway, now that you're able to shag again, you're also fit enough to go back to school." Sirius gave Harry a cocky grin. 

"Aw?" Harry tried, but knew it was futile to protest. 

"You've already missed ten days, Harry. I agree it's time you go back to Hogwarts," Remus said. He pulled out of Harry carefully and Harry rolled onto his back, glancing between Sirius and Remus. 

Sirius propped himself up on an elbow and looked at Harry with a frown. "Harry, if you get pissed off at us again, which is perfectly understandable, please don't go off doing stupid things you know you shouldn't be doing."

Harry bit his lip.

"He's right," Remus said, resting his hand on Harry's stomach and moving it around in soothing circles. "You knew better than to play a Quidditch game right after your transformation."

"I didn't know it could kill me," Harry whispered. "I thought I'd just feel like crap for a week or so."

"You have to understand that while the infection regenerates your bodily tissue every month and thus makes you stronger on a whole, during those days after the full moon you are weak. Your body needs time to heal after a transformation and there isn't a potion in the world that can change that."

Harry nodded, feeling guilty for what he had done. Not to mention stupid. This was something he should have been able to figure out on his own. 

"Why did you get so pissed off, anyway?" Sirius asked, brushing his long hair out of his face with a casual gesture.

"I dunno," Harry sighed. "I felt so...frustrated. What with you refusing to tell me anything about that werewolf. Why is it so important I don't know who he is?"

"Because he's a rather high-profile man, Harry," Remus said, giving Harry a patient smile. "And associating yourself with him in any way increases the risk of your secret coming out."

"All right. But you could have just told me that in the Shack."

"And you could have bloody well controlled your temper better," Sirius countered, giving Harry's head a playful slap. 

"I guess." Harry stifled a yawn and was about to suggest they get some sleep when he realized something. "God, Firenze warned me about this."

"What was that?" Sirius asked. 

"Firenze told me at the start of the year that if I didn't learn to control myself, there would be much darkness or something."

"You should have listened to that bloke, then."

"I'm really sorry," Harry offered for the umpteenth time since he'd woken up five days earlier. 

"We know you are, Harry," Remus said, and nuzzled Harry's shoulder. "Just try to use your common sense from now on before you jump to conclusions and throw yourself head first into battle."

"Yeah, I will," Harry whispered, silently telling himself that he would. "What am I supposed to tell Ron and Hermione when I get back? I doubt they'll believe I've been practicing Legilimency for ten days."

"Dumbledore told them you got hit with a nasty hex during your private defence lessons, and it caused you serious harm during the match. Stick with that," Remus said, and Sirius nodded his agreement. "And now I believe we could use some sleep."

Sirius pulled the sheets up and Harry snuggled between their bodies, trying to take in as much of their contact as he could. He knew he'd miss it dearly once he got back to Hogwarts.


	9. Chapter 8

"Potter, stay behind."

Harry glanced from Snape to Remus, raising a questioning eyebrow. All Remus did was gather his cloak and smile in a way that told Harry he was silently saying: 'You deserve whatever Snape is about to throw at you.' Harry sighed, nodded at Remus and turned to face Snape. Since he'd returned to Hogwarts two days earlier, Harry had been wondering if Snape would call him on his unintentional suicide attempt, and when Snape hadn't held him after class earlier, Harry began to hope he'd escape Snape's wrath. 

A fool's hope, as it turned out. 

"First, your performance today was abysmal," Snape said, leaning against his desk with a sneer. "Not once did you penetrate Lupin's mind correctly, and before you say it is because you have died, let me say that death is no excuse for such a pitiful performance."

Harry bit his lip, forcing back the heated flares that made him want to argue with Snape. 

"Secondly, after your brainless stunt I wanted to remove you from my Advanced Potion's class, Potter, but alas, the headmaster stopped me. Can you guess why I wanted to remove you from my class?"

"Um..."

"Do you know the ingredients of Pepperup, Potter? You should know them by heart in this class." Snape's voice got louder and louder and Harry fought the urge to flinch away from it. 

"Um...black beetle eyes, ginger, Chinese Fireball eggshells, net –"

"Ah ha! Tell me the effects of an overdose of Chinese Fireball eggshells, Potter." Snape pushed himself away from his desk and stalked towards Harry.

"Um...I don't know, sir."

"Of course you don't know!" Snape yelled, towering over Harry. "If you had known you wouldn't have consumed four vials of Pepperup in your condition, you imbecile!" 

"Heart failure?" Harry tried, feeling a cocky smile tug on his lips. 

"Indeed. But you should have realized that before you decided to give yourself a heart attack." Snape leaned closer, his face only an inch away from Harry's as his voice dropped to a dark whisper. "The next time you decide to kill yourself, I will let you die, is that understood, Potter?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, lowering his gaze to the floor. 

"The headmaster thinks you don't need any punishment for your mistake, but fortunately the headmaster can't tell me how to teach my class. I expect a seven-foot essay on Pepperup, its ingredients and the properties of Chinese Fireball eggshells, all thirteen of them, on my desk by Monday."

Harry groaned, and then nodded obediently. He already had tons of homework to catch up on – Hermione had handed it to him with an apologetic smile when he'd returned – and an extra essay for Potions was the last thing Harry needed. But he knew there was little he could do about it. For once, he was to blame for what he had done, and as Sirius had said to him right before he left, he knew he should take it like a man. 

"Yes, sir," Harry said and then dared to glance up at Snape again. "If that is all? I have a Defence against the Dark Arts class in about two minutes."

Snape raised himself, glaring down at Harry over his hooked nose. "Ah, yes, Weasley thought it necessary to teach you outside the normal curriculum. Very well. Get out."

Harry grabbed his bag and rushed out of Snape's office. He'd hoped Remus would be waiting for him outside, but Remus was nowhere to be seen. Which was probably for the best, since Harry did have an extra class. Bill had told them he wanted to discuss a subject that could only be taught outside, after dark. And thus Harry was expected in the courtyard where Bill planned on having his surprise class. 

Running through the corridors, Harry hoped he'd still be on time. The entrance hall was empty and Harry hurried through the front doors and took a left to the courtyard. When he got there, he saw torches hanging from the walls to light the empty chairs placed in a large circle. Apparently, he was early after all, and he walked towards one of the chairs and --

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. His stomach churned, his skin shivered and his legs trembled. 

There was something there. Something very bad that set off dozens of alarm bells inside his mind. He tried to move, but his feet seemed frozen to the ground and his arms felt like lead, too heavy to lift and get his wand out. Harry thought he might be sick, and he tried to inhale a deep breath but couldn't since invisible hands were cutting off his air. 

And then something moved in the dancing shadows beneath one of the torches on the far wall. 

Harry stood motionless, helpless, as he watched a cloaked figure move across the courtyard. For a moment, Harry was sure it was a Dementor, because the figure didn't seem to be walking. Instead, it just moved in one smooth motion right towards him. 

"Wolfboy," a deep voice drawled, and Harry choked on his own saliva, unable to swallow. 

The figure stopped in front of him, face hidden in the shadows of his hood. He was tall, taller even than Sirius, and Harry watched as a pale hand slipped out of the sleeve when the figure raised his arm. Cool fingers traced over his cheek and Harry felt his eyelids flutter while he fought to regain control over his body. 

"At last we meet." The figure raised his head and a flash of white sent a shiver down Harry's spine. He was sure he'd just seen fangs glitter in the yellow light of the torches. 

"I am incredibly curious to know what you are doing here, wolfboy," the figure said, his fingers now stroking up and down the pulse point on Harry's throat. "It's not every day a young wolf such as yourself tries to keep his identity hidden in a school full of wizards."

"Harry, you made it!"

Bill's voice snapped Harry out of his trance and he took a stumbling step away from the figure. 

"I see you've met our guest," Bill said, leading the class into the courtyard. "Come on everyone, grab a seat."

"Harry, you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost," Ron said, his brow furrowing into a worried frown. "Is it the hex? Do we need to get Pomfrey?"

"No," Harry croaked, confused, the last shreds of the terror he'd felt earlier seeping from his body. "That man...he's..." All Harry could do was point a weak finger at the figure. Ron, who'd led Harry to a couple of empty chairs, looked between Harry, Bill and the figure, and shrugged. 

"Class, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine," Bill said when everyone had found a seat. "Now, be warned that he'll most certainly use vulgar language and insult you any way he can, but it is important that you listen to what he has to say about his kin."

Harry sat on his chair, still trembling. He couldn't take his eyes off the figure, who stood beside Bill, his face still concealed by his hood.

"This is Ivan Storkavic, a five-hundred-year-old Master Vampire."

At the moment Bill spoke the figure pulled away his hood, revealing the face of a young man in his early twenties, with light-blue eyes, long, dark-brown hair that fell past his shoulders, and skin as white and smooth as marble. 

A rather handsome young man, Harry thought, as he took in the sharp nose and full lips. Most of the girls in their class appeared to agree and they let out soft 'ooohs' while all the boys leaned forward in morbid curiosity. 

All the boys save Ron, who stared at his brother with narrowed eyes. "Bill!"

"Professor Weasley," Bill corrected. 

"How can you be friends with a bloody vampire?" Ron continued, affronted. 

"Ah, that's a long story," Bill said with a smile. He put his hand on the vampire's shoulder. "Let's have a seat, and I'm sure Ivan won't mind telling you all how that happened."

Ivan sat down, lowering his cloaked body in one calculated motion, and then tugged his lips up in a slow grin, baring two ivory fangs. Harry's stomach turned at the sight.

"Five years ago I was staying in Northern Africa, visiting a few old friends, when I met a girl with the face of an angel," Ivan said and all the students listened carefully. "I knew she was meant for me, so I followed her to Egypt and there she became mine as I sank my fangs into her throat – no, no, she lived, I have more control than that," he said with a sly smile when a few students made protesting sounds. "However, her family wasn't amused by the fact that their daughter offered her blood willingly to a Master Vampire.

"And thus an angry mob – there's always an angry mob – chased me down to the desert just when the sun was about to rise. And I'm sure all you lovely boys and girls know that vampires don't take well to sunshine. There's a reason we don't have a tan, you see." Ivan's smile became wider, his fangs again bared, and he glanced at Bill, who sat beside him with an amused grin.

"Anyway, I reached an ancient tomb hidden in the granite of a lone mountain when the first rays of light broke over the horizon. And there happened to be a lovely young wizard who didn't mind offering me shelter for the day." Ivan nodded his head in Bill's direction, and then added with an innocent smile, "Do you want me to include the part where you fucked me against that sarcophagus, darling?"

A small blush crept up Bill's cheeks. "No, I don't think that will be necessary, Ivan, thank you."

"Bill!" Ron shouted again, his cheeks more flushed than his brother's. "How can you...with a vampire!" More students around them wondered the same thing in hushed mutters and with both curious and horrified glances. 

"Don't knock it until you try it," Ivan drawled, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. 

"I can see why Professor Weasley would," Lavender whispered to Parvati. "Look at him. He's gorgeous."

"Thanks, darling." Ivan winked at her and Lavender giggled in return, clasping Parvati's hands. 

"All right, that's enough," Bill said. "We're not here to talk about my or anyone else's sex life. We're here to talk about vampires. Headmaster Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea to let you see for yourselves what a vampire is and ask him anything you want to know about them."

"Because it is rumoured that vampires have joined You-Know-Who?" Hermione asked, seemingly the only girl unaffected by Ivan's charm.

"Have vampires joined him?" Neville added softly before Bill could answer Hermione. 

"Listen, mortal," Ivan said, leaning forward, his intense gaze fixed on Neville. "We don't take kindly to wizards who think they can order us around. That goes for that snake Voldemort, but that also goes for your Ministry."

"You're not even a wizard, are you?" Malfoy asked with a sneer. 

"I don't do hocus pocus, no."

"You're just a Muggle then. An old one, but still just a Muggle," Malfoy drawled, earning appreciative snorts from Nott and Parkinson.

"I can assure you I'm not just a mortal," Ivan said, his lips curling up in something that was definitely not a smile. "Vampires are the most powerful of all Dark Creatures. We don't need hocus pocus to get around."

And then Ivan moved faster than Harry could see and suddenly had Malfoy, who sat on the other end of the circle, pinned to his chair. 

"You see, we are predators. I can move faster than the human eye can follow. I could hear your erratic heartbeat from my seat." Ivan leaned his face closer to Malfoy's, teeth bared while Malfoy tried to draw back but was unable to move. "I can smell that you fucked that girl," he nodded his head in Parkinson's direction, "this morning, after you ate her out. Oh, and did you shoot your load too soon? My, my, humiliation does smell sweet."

"Thank you, Ivan, for that demonstration," Bill said. Harry could see Bill was trying to hide a grin, and part of him wanted to grin as well, because seeing Malfoy humiliated was something to grin about. But another part of him was still uncomfortable to be this close to a vampire, and Harry shifted in his seat restlessly. 

"You're welcome, darling," Ivan said, letting go of Malfoy ever so slowly and sauntering back to his seat, every eye on him. 

"As Ivan just showed us, vampires have highly-developed senses, which they use when searching for prey," Bill said matter-of-factly. "Does anyone have any questions about that?"

"Is it true vampires can read minds?" Seamus asked. 

"Oh yes," Ivan said with an amused smirk, and stared into Seamus' eyes. "And you really should stop wanking thrice a day or you'll go blind."

Seamus blushed fiercely, and the rest burst out in laughter. Even Harry couldn't stop himself from snickering, despite the unease he felt. 

"No, they can't read minds," Bill chided, giving Ivan a playful nudge with his elbow.

"Ah, busted," Ivan said, shaking his head. "We can sense emotions, like fear. We smell them."

"But you kill people," Hermione said, looking at Ivan studiously. "You drink human blood to survive."

"You must be mistaking me for a minion, mortal," Ivan said, his expression hardening. "I am a Master Vampire."

"And that means?" Hermione asked. 

Something that sounded like a growl rose from Ivan's chest, but Hermione kept looking at him, unfazed.

"That means that I have control. For a Master Vampire, it's the hunt that counts, not the kill. We don't need to kill to survive. Besides, mortals line up to let us suck their blood."

Before Hermione could ask more, Harry perked up. "Why?" he asked, and when Ivan snapped his narrowed gaze at him, he added, "Why do mortals line up to give you their blood?"

Ivan cocked his head and seemed to consider Harry for a moment. "Because it feels good." Then he sniffed the air visibly and bared his teeth, licking his fangs with the tip of his tongue. "You know what I'm talking about. The feeling of a hot cock sliding inside your arse. That's how it feels when I sink my fangs into your throat. It's probably the most erotic experience any mortal will ever have."

Soft gasps could be heard around the circle, together with a triumphant cry from Malfoy. 

"I knew it! Potter is a nancy-boy!"

Harry wanted to shoot back a vicious reply, but Ivan moved before Harry could release so much as a breath and pinned Malfoy to his chair again. 

"Do you have a problem with men fucking men?" Ivan snarled, his fingers tightening around Malfoy's throat like claws.

"No," Malfoy wheezed, eyes wide in fear. 

"Ivan!" Bill snapped, rising from his seat. 

As quickly as Ivan's expression had shifted to that of a predator -- nose wrinkled, two sharp fangs poised to strike, and his blue eyes darkening -- it shifted back to that of a controlled young man, and he gave Bill a flirtatious smile over his shoulder. Ivan let go of Malfoy and strolled back to his seat. Halfway, he turned to Harry and blew him a kiss. Harry felt his cheeks flush and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't believe he'd just been outed by a bloody vampire of all things, and he kept his gaze down, not meeting any of the astonished looks his fellow students gave him. 

"I think it's time to discuss ways to kill a vampire," Bill said, glaring at Ivan. "Who knows how one can kill the annoying undead?" 

Ivan snorted and leaned back in his chair again, bemused. 

"A wooden stake, fire," Ron said, and frowned. "Silver –"

"No, not silver," Ivan interrupted him, and then gazed at Harry. "Silver only kills werewolves. As does my blood."

Harry felt as if someone were pressing against his chest, pushing the air out of his lungs, and he quickly looked away. 

"Ah, yes, that is an interesting fact," Bill said, leaning forward in his chair. "Vampires and werewolves are natural enemies, since vampire blood can kill a werewolf when consumed."

Listening with half an ear to Bill, Harry glanced up again and saw Ivan was still staring at him. When Harry didn't look away, Ivan cocked a daring eyebrow. Harry only narrowed his eyes, trying to fight the nauseous feeling in his stomach. 

"Decapitation is a third way to kill a vampire," Bill continued. "But the most important thing you should all know is that magic has little effect on vampires." 

"Yes," Ivan agreed. "Your so-called Killing Curse only gives me a splitting headache."

Hermione, who'd had taken out parchment and quill and was scribbling furiously, looked up. "Why is that?"

"Because I'm not alive like you are."

"Is it true your heart doesn't beat?" Neville asked, looking fascinated. 

Ivan rose from his chair and undid the top few buttons of his cloak. Then he waved Neville over. 

"Feel for yourself," Ivan said, pulling his cloak and shirt open to reveal a pale, smooth chest. 

Neville, looking slightly embarrassed, tentatively placed his hand on Ivan's skin over his heart and frowned. "I don't feel anything," he whispered after a few moments. "You're very cold."

"I don't have body heat since my heart doesn't pump blood around my body to warm me," Ivan explained. Neville nodded and quickly pulled his hand back, as if afraid Ivan might hurt him. Ivan chuckled and sat back down, buttoning up his cloak. 

"Does anyone else have a question for Ivan?" Bill asked. At least half a dozen hands shot up and they spent the next hour asking questions and listening to Ivan's often elaborate answers. They ranged from 'Is Ivan your real name?' – yes – and 'Where are you from originally?' – Romania – to 'Have you ever turned a human?' – no –. Harry listened intently but stayed quiet, trying to ignore the glances Ivan shot at him. 

"All right, I think that's enough for one night," Bill finally said, rising from his seat. "Ivan, thank you for joining us this evening."

"My pleasure, darling. I love to entertain. Plus, a Master Vampire never forgets a debt." Ivan got up as well, smiled at Bill and then looked at Harry. "Excuse me, Billy. I think I'll go apologize to that boy over there for accidentally outing him."

Harry didn't think Ivan sounded particularly apologetic, and he snatched up his bag so he could get out of there. But Ivan stood in front of him before Harry had even straightened himself completely. 

"Can I have a word?" Ivan asked, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder and pushing him back a few steps so they could talk in private.

"Listen, wolfboy," Ivan whispered in Harry's ear while Harry swallowed against the bile rising up from his stomach. "Meet me in the Hog's Head in half an hour."

"What?" Harry gasped. 

"Meet me there or your secret will no longer be a secret, understood?"

"Wait!" Harry said, but Ivan pulled back, narrowed his eyes at Harry for a second and turned around, stalking back towards Bill. 

"Fuck."

"What?" Ron asked, joining him. 

"Nothing," Harry snapped, trying to think of what to do. He had to talk to Sirius and Remus. They were the only ones who would be able to do something about this, Harry thought. "I have to go. Business," Harry said, and without waiting for a reply, Harry turned and hurried towards the castle. 

He arrived in his dormitory completely out of breath. While he'd felt reasonably good over the past few days, he still didn't have his full health back and at that moment, Harry cursed his weakened body. He pulled the mirror out from under his pillow and pressed his hand against it. 

"Sirius! Remus!"

No reply came and Harry paced around the room, gazing into the mirror and willing his lovers to reply. "Sirius! Remus! Come on!" he tried again, but the mirror stayed blank. 

"Fuck!" He kicked his trunk, panic rise in his chest. If Ivan did spill his secret, both Harry and Remus would be in big trouble. And Harry did believe Ivan would tell. After all, the vampire had had no problem outing him in front of his class.

There was nothing left but for Harry to sneak out and meet Ivan. He slid the mirror inside the pocket of his robes and grabbed his bag. After a moment of consideration, he grabbed his Firebolt and draped his invisibility cloak around it. The mirror was still activated, so perhaps when Sirius and Remus returned from wherever they were off to – probably shagging in the bedroom, Harry thought bitterly – they might hear him talk and come to his rescue. Not that Harry thought he needed rescuing. 

He ran down the stairs, burst through the portrait hole, and had run all the way to the entrance hall before he realized there was another way to handle this situation. He could go to Dumbledore. The headmaster knew his secret, after all, and surely he'd know how to handle blackmailing vampires. Harry took a right turn and hurried towards the headmaster's office. 

But the gargoyle blocked his way, and when Harry knocked against it a few times, no answer came. He kicked it in frustration and ran back to the entrance hall and out of the castle. He'd have to deal with it himself. And it was only one annoying vampire, Harry thought. How hard could that be?

In the shadow of a tree, Harry draped his invisibility cloak around himself and mounted his broom. He kicked off and flew towards Hogsmeade as fast as he could, holding the cloak tightly around himself with one hand. 

All the while Harry couldn't stop wondering what Ivan wanted of him. Sure, vampires and werewolves were enemies, supposedly, but Harry hadn't done anything to Ivan. Harry didn't know what to think of Ivan. On the one hand, Ivan had seemed like a player, someone who enjoyed fucking with other people. But on the other hand, Ivan had seemed honest and got genuinely upset about certain things. Like Hermione wondering aloud how a vampire could get an erection without having any circulation. 

When he reached Hogsmeade, Harry zoomed through the deserted streets and brought his broom to a halt in a dark alley near the Hog's Head. He stuffed his invisibility cloak into his bag, pulled out his wand and pushed his Firebolt under his arm.

"Sirius? Remus?" he tried one last time in a hushed voice, but the mirror in his pocket stayed silent. Taking a deep breath, and then another, Harry walked out of the alley and, glancing around for any possible danger, his wand poised to attack, he made his way to the Hog's Head. 

As he pushed the door open, the stench of stale beer and cigarette smoke welcomed him. The pub was empty, save for the grouchy-looking wizard behind the bar, a man reading The Daily Prophet in the corner, his back to the door, and Ivan Storkavic, smiling at Harry as he waved him over. 

Harry kept his wand in his hand and walked towards where Ivan sat, his feet propped up on the table. Ivan had taken off his cloak, and Harry tried not to notice that he was wearing tight-fitting black leather trousers and that his white shirt was partially unbuttoned and revealed far too much pale skin. 

"Hello, wolfboy," Ivan drawled as Harry sank into a chair stiffly. 

"What do you want?" Harry asked, keeping his wand aimed at Ivan under the table while he rested his Firebolt against an unoccupied chair. 

"Just a chat. Drink?" Ivan raised a glass of wine at Harry, and when Harry shook his head he shrugged and sipped it. 

"A chat about what?"

"You, darling." Ivan let his feet slip to the floor and leaned towards Harry across the table. "I'd really like to know who infected you."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. "I'm not telling you."

"Listen, I know you're just a puppy. I can smell that. So, I wonder, who was the lucky bastard who got to sink his teeth into you?"

"No, you listen," Harry whispered, a protective surge of rage burning inside him. "I'm not telling you a fucking thing. I have my wand pointed at you at this moment, and I will hurt you if you don't tell me within ten seconds what you want of me. And I can hurt you. You're not a wizard."

"But I am," said a voice behind Harry. 

"Hello, love. Glad you could join us," Ivan said, amused, as Harry whipped around in his chair and stared up at a face he'd seen once before.

"You," he gasped, raising his arm and pointing his wand at the newcomer. "I've seen you before. In the Prophet."

"Funny. I've seen you in the Prophet as well, Mr Potter." The man extended his hand. "Patrick McKinley. Call me Patrick. A pleasure to finally meet you, Harry."

Harry merely gaped at Patrick, a thousand thoughts erupting in his mind at once. This was the man -- the werewolf -- Sirius and Remus didn't want him to know about. This was the werewolf who had infected Remus. And what the bloody hell was he doing with a vampire? But then Harry remembered Remus' words, that Patrick wasn't interested in killing him. Slowly, Harry lowered his wand and extended his free hand, shaking Patrick's. 

"There's a lad," Patrick said, smiling. His brown eyes were warm, even though they were narrowed, and his red-brown hair was very short. He looked rugged, dark stubble covering his cheeks, just like the picture Harry had seen of him in the Daily Prophet back in September. He wasn't very tall, not much taller than Harry himself, but his shoulders were broad and his handshake was firm. 

"What do you want of me?" Harry asked when he found his voice again. 

"Ivan was right. Just a chat. But I suggest we have that in our room. A bit more privacy that way."

Harry narrowed his eyes. He knew going off somewhere with two unfamiliar men – two Dark Creatures -- wasn't the safest thing to do, but he had to admit to being curious about what Patrick wanted of him. 

"All right. But show me your arms first," Harry said. 

Patrick nodded and rolled up the sleeves of his chequered shirt, revealing slightly scarred but unmarked forearms. Harry glared at Ivan, who made a show of getting up, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up ever so slowly. His arms were pale, unscarred and unmarked. 

"Do you want me to take off the rest as well, darling?" Ivan asked with a smirk, reaching for the fastenings of his trousers. 

"No, thanks," Harry muttered, heat burning his cheeks. 

"Ivan, shut it and stop teasing the lad," Patrick scolded mildly. "This way, Harry."

Harry followed Patrick and Ivan through a side door and up a flight of narrow stairs into a small corridor with a handful of doors. Patrick opened the one on the far left – room number three, Harry noted – and gestured him inside. Harry stepped through and took in the rather small room; there was a fireplace with a couple of chairs in front of it and a king-sized bed at the other end of the room, with a wardrobe against the wall and a door that led to what Harry assumed was a bathroom. 

"Have a seat. Care for a drink?" Patrick asked, stepping up to a small side table that held several bottles of liquor – wine and whiskey, as far as Harry could tell. 

"No, thanks," he replied, lowering his Firebolt and bag to the floor, and sitting down on the edge of one of the chairs, looking around the room again. There was only one bed, on which Ivan sat at that moment, peeling off his leather boots. Only one bed meant that Patrick and Ivan shared it, most likely. 

Harry worried his bottom lip. "What are you doing with a vampire?" he whispered when Patrick sat down in the chair beside him, cradling a tumbler of whiskey. 

"That's a good question, lad, and one I've been trying to answer for over a year now," Patrick said with a thoughtful frown. 

"I heard that!" Ivan called, glaring at Patrick. Harry watched quietly as Patrick glared right back, but he could see a lot of affection in their gazes, which both surprised and amused him. It surely wasn't a combination he'd ever expected to see. 

"And no need to whisper, darling," Ivan suddenly said right in Harry's ear, startling him. "I have very good hearing. I'll hear it anyway."

"Ivan, stop scaring the lad." Patrick winked at Harry and sipped his whiskey. 

"Now where's the fun in not scaring him?" Ivan mused, and Harry scowled. "Love, can you do your thing?" Ivan asked, waving at a small footrest. 

Patrick pulled his wand out of his jeans, and Harry stiffened at the sight of it, automatically reaching for his own wand again. But Patrick aimed at the footrest, transfigured it into a comfortable chair with a muttered spell, and Ivan sank down in it, hooking one leg over the armrest as he leaned back lazily. 

"We're not going to hurt you, pup," Patrick said, putting his wand down on the worn coffee table. "No need to jump at everything we do."

"Okay," Harry said, nodding. "I just have a few bad experiences with trusting people. So I'd really like to know what you want of me."

"Ivan here told me about a young wolf prancing about Hogsmeade," Patrick said, looking at Harry as he tilted his head curiously. "Of course I wanted to know who that wolf was, especially when Remus Lupin tried to hide him from me. You're Remus', aren't you, lad?"

Harry pursed his lips, glancing down. He knew there was little use in denying it, but he didn't want to confirm it, either. "I know you infected Remus," he finally said. 

Patrick's eyes widened and then his lips curved into a sad smile. "Aye, I did, a long time ago. The only human I ever infected. I never thought Remus would tell you that."

"He didn't," Harry muttered. "I found out in a different way. How do you know Remus?"

"He didn't tell you that either, did he?" When Harry shook his head, Patrick continued, "I met him some ten years ago, when he came to Dublin and was looking for work and I offered him a job in my bookstore. You can imagine our surprise when we figured out who we truly were. He lived with me for about a year."

"He lived with you?" Harry wondered aloud, glancing up at Patrick. "As in..."

"As in we were together, aye."

"Then you two share more than just blood," Ivan said, glancing between Harry and Patrick. "Our puppy here is shagging both the wolf and the dog."

When Harry stared at him with wide eyes, Ivan tapped his nose once. "I smell everything, darling."

Patrick reached for a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table, took one out and lit it with a Muggle lighter. Staring at Harry with a thoughtful frown, he blew a thin stream of smoke towards the ceiling. 

"That makes it three things then, that I never thought Remus would do," he said and sipped his whiskey. Harry cocked his head in a silent request for an explanation. "Get back with the bloke who'd betrayed his friends – aye, I know that black dog is Sirius Black, Remus has told me that much about his past – shag the son of his dead friend, and infect another human being."

"He's innocent!" Harry snapped. "Sirius is innocent. Someone else betrayed my parents," he added softly at Patrick's intrigued look. 

"That makes sense, then. Still doesn't explain why he's shagging you or why he ever infected you, does it?"

"It was an accident!"

"He fucked you by accident?" Ivan asked, giving Harry a teasing grin. 

"No, of course not," Harry growled, getting more and more annoyed by Ivan's careless attitude. 

"Ivan, shut it," Patrick chided.

"He infected me by accident," Harry whispered. "It wasn't his fault."

"It wasn't his fault? Is that what he's been telling you?" Patrick asked, voice darkening while his eyes narrowed to slits. 

"No!" Harry took a deep breath and tried to find the right words to explain his infection without giving the truth away. "It wasn't his fault because I did something foolish. I forgot something I should have known."

Patrick took a drag of his cigarette, considering Harry's answer. "Did you forget werewolves are vicious killers? You seem more intelligent than that, lad."

"No," Harry sighed and rubbed his hands across his face. "He got hit with a hex and was stuck in his wolf form, but he still had most of his human mind. So I...played with him and he accidentally infected me."

Patrick curved an eyebrow in a way that told Harry he wasn't buying a single word of Harry's explanation. 

"That's what happened," Harry said stubbornly. 

"Show me your scar then."

Harry stared at Patrick and mindlessly raised one hand to his forehead. 

"Not that scar, lad," Patrick said, amused. He reached for the collar of his shirt, opened a button and pulled it down, revealing a marred patch of flesh covering part of his throat and chest. "This scar. All wolves have one. Show me yours."

"I don't have –" Harry snapped his mouth shut, cursing himself for almost saying too much. "I don't have any intention of showing it to you," he finished. 

"Liar, liar, your cheeks are on fire," Ivan drawled and sniffed the air. "I smell a sweet little lie."

"Ivan, leave it." Patrick stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray and gulped the last of his whiskey down. "That still doesn't explain why he's shagging you. He's twice your age."

"And he's at least ten times your age," Harry countered, pointing a finger at Ivan. "And yet you shag him."

Patrick threw his head back and howled with laughter, slapping his thigh. Ivan chuckled, nodding his head at Harry approvingly. 

"I like him," Ivan said to Patrick. "Clever little puppy."

"Aye, and he's got a good pair of bollocks as well," Patrick agreed. 

Harry wasn't sure if he should feel flattered or not. In fact, he wasn't sure how to feel at all, since he still didn't understand what Patrick wanted of him. Besides a chat. But, since he was there, Harry thought he might make the best of it and try to find out something useful. 

"So, I read in the Prophet that you told Fudge you might join Voldemort," Harry said casually once Patrick had caught his breath. 

"Ivan, be a love." Patrick leaned over and handed Ivan his empty glass. Ivan took it, rose from his chair, and moved out of Harry's line of sight, which made Harry want to turn in his chair so he could keep an eye on the vampire. But Patrick chose that moment to answer his question, so instead Harry focused on him, curious about what he had to say. 

"I never said I would join Voldemort. I said that with their current Dark Creatures laws, they leave us little choice but to join him." Patrick slid another cigarette out of the pack and lit it. "I've met Voldemort. He was quite interested in forming an alliance with us Dark Creatures. We just weren't interested in siding with him."

"You met him?" Harry asked, both worried and curious. 

"Aye. He invited a few spokespeople for our kin to meet him. I'm one of them."

Harry wanted to ask more, but he was cut off by a glass of wine Ivan thrust in his face. 

"Here, darling, that might relax you a bit."

"No, thanks," Harry mumbled. 

Ivan narrowed his eyes. "Are you refusing to drink with a Master Vampire? That is an insult, mortal."

"Ivan, shut it. Lad, take the drink."

Much to his own surprise, Harry accepted the glass of wine and Ivan, after handing Patrick a glass of whiskey and giving him a chaste kiss, sank down in his chair, sipping his own wine. Harry stared at the dark red liquid, wondering why he had just obeyed Patrick. 

"We're pack, lad," Patrick said. Harry snapped his gaze up at him. "Whether you like it or not, we are pack." 

"He likes to play alpha wolf," Ivan whispered with a suggestive smirk. 

"It's what I am." Patrick shrugged, sloshing his whiskey around in his glass. "And I've never heard you complain about that before," he added, glancing up at Ivan.

"Not complaining. Just stating the facts." Ivan raised his upper lip and licked his tongue across his fangs. Blushing, Harry looked away and mindlessly sipped his wine. Too late he realized that it could be drugged, but when nothing happened he took another sip, letting the full, heady taste of the wine linger on his tongue. It didn't taste all that bad. 

"What did you mean by we are pack?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. "You're not my pack."

"I am your pack. You are Remus' and Remus is mine."

"And what does that make me?" Ivan asked. "The wicked stepmother?"

"The Tooth Fairy more likely," Patrick muttered and Harry snorted into his glass of wine, snickering. Ivan scowled and gave Patrick a two-finger salute.

"If a chat is all you wanted, you aren't going to tell my secret, are you?" Harry wondered aloud, glancing between Patrick and Ivan. 

"Of course not, darling," Ivan said, winking at him. "But you've got to admit, it worked like a charm, didn't it? To get you to meet me here."

"Don't worry, lad," Patrick added. "We don't betray our kin."

The door banged open, and before Harry could even turn around and see who had just entered, Ivan was already on his feet. He positioned himself between the doorway and the chairs, his nose wrinkled and his fangs bared for a moment, and then his expression relaxed. 

"Enter the ex-lover. And his dog," he drawled.

"You are not his pack and I am not yours," Harry heard Remus say with more venom in his voice than Harry'd ever heard before. 

"Hello, Remus," Patrick said evenly, shifting in his seat to look at the newcomers. Harry did the same and saw Remus close the door and Padfoot morph into Sirius. 

"Now that is a neat trick," Ivan said, awed as he stared at Sirius. "I want a dog like that."

"Harry, come here," Sirius said tightly, reaching for his wand. Remus already had his out and pointed it at Patrick. 

"You have no business with Harry. You shouldn't have lured him here," Remus whispered. 

"Um...we were just having a chat," Harry mumbled, placed his glass of wine on the table and got up from his seat. He didn't want things to explode in his face or anyone to get hurt. After all, Patrick and Ivan had treated him well enough. But Sirius grabbed his wrist and pulled him close, his wand levelled at Ivan. Harry barely managed to snatch his bag up from the ground.

"I have every right to speak to a pup of my own pack," Patrick countered, slowly getting up as well. "You can't deny blood, Remus."

"I can do whatever I want when it comes to my pack, Patrick. He's not yours."

"Someone is living in denial here," Ivan drawled, leaning against the back of a chair and quite obviously looking Sirius over. "Denying blood...you're either an idiot or...no, wait, you are an idiot if you think you can deny blood."

Remus ignored Ivan's remark, but Harry saw the muscles in his jaw twitch. "What are you doing with an undead? Have you sunk so low?" he asked Patrick instead. 

"That's rich coming from you," Patrick said, standing beside Ivan. "You've spent all that time accusing me and now look at you. How does it feel to know you've cursed an innocent lad, Remus?"

"Shut your gob," Sirius snarled, his wand poised at Patrick. 

"Careful, dogboy. I don't want to have to bite you," Ivan said, briefly flashing his fangs. "Actually, I wouldn't mind having a taste of you, but I'd rather it be consensual while you fuck me senseless."

"Shut it, Ivan."

"Sod off, you stiff," Sirius snapped.

"Sirius, please," Remus sighed.

Harry glanced between the four men, at a complete loss as to what to say or do. He leaned back against Sirius, needing the comfort of his warmth. Sirius' arm wrapped around his waist tighter.

"Remus, why don't we all just have a drink and a chat?" Patrick said, looking tired. "Talk things through. No need for us to be fighting. We're not each other's enemy."

"I have nothing to say to you," Remus said, his voice hoarse and bitter. "You...both of you, stay away from Harry."

"I can't promise you that. He's my pup as well as yours."

"Then I can't promise you I won't kill you if I ever see you near him again." 

"I'd like to see you try, darling," Ivan said, but Patrick put his hand on Ivan's arm to silence him. 

"We're leaving," Remus said. Sirius opened the door and pushed Harry through it before he transformed into Padfoot and followed Harry out. Remus was close behind and Harry walked down the narrow steps, still wondering what had just happened. But it wasn't until they stepped out of the Hog's Head that he turned to Remus. 

"Not yet, Harry," Remus said before Harry could even open his mouth. Annoyed, Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw both Patrick and Ivan looking out the window on the first floor. Patrick raised his hand and tapped a finger against his temple in a silent salute and Ivan blew Harry a kiss. Harry, after making sure Remus and Padfoot weren't paying attention, waved a quick goodbye. 

"In here." Remus guided Harry into the dark alley Harry had used earlier. "Can you apparate to the Shack?"

"Yeah," Harry said, and Padfoot transformed back into Sirius. But as Harry readjusted his bag around his shoulder he realized something. "Wait! I have to go back! I left my Firebolt in their room." He'd already turned around but Sirius grabbed his wrist. 

"I'll buy you a new broom. The Shack, now, please."

Ignoring the pang of disappointment in his stomach, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. He did have his apparating license, but he hadn't apparated much besides around Grimmauld Place when he'd been practicing. He concentrated on the Shack, on the approximate distance and the spot where he wanted to land, and then he mentally ordered his body to apparate. 

Feeling slightly nauseous, Harry reappeared inside the Shack's living room. Brief cracks around him told him that Sirius and Remus had made it as well, and he looked up at them both. Remus looked exhausted and Sirius looked as if he wanted to kill something. Or someone. 

"I'm ready to bend you over my knee and spank the hide off your arse, Harry, so you'd better convince me it wasn't your fault you were having a drink with a vampire and a notorious werewolf."

Harry bit his lip, not looking at Sirius, and sank down on the couch. "It wasn't my fault. I tried to contact you, but you didn't answer the mirror. I left it activated on purpose –"

"And a good thing you did because that's how we found you," Remus interrupted, sitting down beside Harry.

"I tried to go to Dumbledore, but he wasn't in his office. And I only had half an hour to meet Ivan or otherwise he'd spill my secret," Harry finished. 

"But..." Sirius frowned, staring down at both Harry and Remus. "How did you meet that undead ponce in the first place? Did you sneak into Hogsmeade?"

"No! He was our Defence against the Dark Arts subject," Harry said. 

"He was your what?"

"Bill invited him to be our subject. We had a class on vampires and Ivan was there to answer our questions and such."

"I'll bet you my wand Patrick put him up to that, to sniff Harry out," Remus whispered, and Sirius nodded his agreement. 

"But they didn't do anything," Harry said, shrugging. "They just wanted a chat, as it turned out."

"We heard most of the conversation." Remus looked as if he wanted to say more, but he kept quiet. Sirius sat down on Harry's other side, resting his hand on Harry's thigh. 

"All right. You did the right thing, Harry, leaving the mirror on." Sirius leaned his head on the back of the couch, heaving a heavy breath and rubbing Harry's thigh. Harry leaned against him, enjoying the feeling of having both his lovers close enough to bask in their body heat. The events of the day caught up with Harry and he felt exhausted, but his mind was still restless and the longer they stayed silent, the more unanswered questions popped up.

"They didn't do anything to me, you know," Harry whispered, unsure why he wanted to defend Patrick and Ivan. Well, mostly Patrick. "They didn't hurt me, and all we did was talk. Patrick wasn't so bad and neither was Ivan, if you ignore the arrogance and constant sexual innuendos."

"Harry, never trust a vampire!"

Harry looked up at Sirius and arched an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"For one thing, they're dead. Don't trust anything that's been dead for a few centuries and still strolls around."

"He didn't look very dead," Harry muttered, but either Sirius didn't hear him or just decided to ignore him. 

"As for Patrick..." Remus looked thoughtful for a moment, greying hair falling into his eyes as he stared at the ceiling. "He's too high profile. You've seen those demonstrators, Harry. Plus, he has certain political convictions that could cause both of us plenty of trouble."

"I get it," Harry sighed. He did get it, but he wasn't sure if he was completely convinced yet. To be honest, both Patrick and Ivan intrigued him. Harry thought they could probably tell him tons of things about Dark Creatures. But then again, so could Remus.

"Good." Remus leaned closer and brushed his lips over the corner of Harry's mouth. "He would have found out sooner or later, Harry. But I'd hoped it wouldn't be until you'd at least finished Hogwarts."

Harry stared at Remus, inhaling his scent and once again experiencing how relaxed it made him feel. And then he realized that Patrick had had the same effect on him. He'd felt rather relaxed in Patrick's presence, after the initial shock. He'd even stopped feeling so bloody uncomfortable around Ivan once Patrick had been there. 

"Was it true, though, what he said?" Harry asked quietly. "Is he part of our pack?"

Remus' expression hardened and he pulled away from Harry, leaning back against the couch. "Technically, yes, when you look at our bloodlines. But he's not in our pack if we don't want him to be."

"And we don't," Sirius said with a satisfied grin. Harry moved closer and attempted to kiss the smug look off Sirius' face, but after they let go of each other, both slightly out of breath, Sirius looked possibly even more satisfied. "You're ours, Harry," was all he said. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He wanted to be theirs. And there wasn't a place in the world he'd rather be than sitting comfortably between them at that moment. But all good things had to come to an end, as usual. 

Remus pressed a firm kiss to Harry's lips and got up, stretching himself. "Can you meet us here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure," Harry said, and let Sirius pull him up from the couch. 

"We'll show you in great detail how exactly you belong to us," Sirius whispered in Harry's ear, teasing the lobe with his tongue. Harry moaned, a flutter of arousal crawling down his chest until it settled in his sac. "Tomorrow," Sirius promised him with a searing kiss. 

"Be careful, Harry." Remus kissed him as well, and then gave him a gentle push towards the trapdoor. Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak and left his two lovers, thinking he'd probably need a good wank before he'd be able to fall asleep.

Harry climbed out of the hidden passageway, cast a quick glance around to make sure he was alone, and then strolled across the wide lawn back to the castle. 

"You forgot your dust buster," a familiar voice whispered in his ear when Harry was halfway.

Clutching his hand over his heart, Harry literally jumped a foot in the air. "Ivan!"

Ivan pulled the hood of his cloak down, grinned at Harry and then held out Harry's Firebolt. "Patrick said this thing is very expensive, but I honestly have a hard time believing that."

"How did you..." Harry trailed off. It didn't matter that he was invisible. Ivan had probably heard and smelled him a mile away. "Come here." He grabbed Ivan's arm and dragged him to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. When the shadows of the tall trees offered them privacy, Harry pulled his invisibility cloak off. 

"Thanks," he said and took his Firebolt from Ivan. "It is expensive. It's a racing broom."

Ivan stared at Harry as if he was mad. 

"No, really," Harry continued. "I use it to fly. And to play Quidditch on."

"You fly on a broomstick?" Ivan asked, astonished. Then he nodded his head in the direction of the castle. "The next thing you're going to tell me is that you're keeping Hansel and Gretel in your dungeons, aren't you?"

Harry chuckled and cocked his head as he stared up at Ivan. "You know, for a bloke who is shagging a wizard, you don't know much about my kind, do you?"

"That's exactly it," Ivan countered with a smirk. "We fuck. We don't have time to compare cultural differences."

Chuckling again, Harry realized he wasn't feeling uncomfortable at all in Ivan's presence. The guttural fear he'd felt earlier that evening wasn't there, and though Harry was on his guard, he felt relaxed enough. As he wondered how that was possible, Harry once again realized he really didn't know all that much about Dark Creatures, not even werewolves. 

"Anyway, this is the fastest broom on the market," he said, staring at his Firebolt, extremely happy to have his broom back.

"I'm sure it is," Ivan said, but sounded as if he didn't believe a word Harry was saying.

Feeling as if Ivan had just challenged him, Harry narrowed his eyes and then released his Firebolt, letting it hover a few feet above the ground. 

"I'll show you," he said. 

"You'll show me? You think I'm going to sit on that thing?"

"Or perhaps you're too scared to fly on a broom," Harry suggested innocently, grinning at the affronted look Ivan gave him. 

"Bring it on, puppy. A Master Vampire fears nothing."

"Okay." Harry swung his leg over his Firebolt and then glared at Ivan. "If you bite me, I'll –"

"Puppy, if I bite you, Patrick will castrate me, with either a very blunt knife or his bare hands," Ivan interrupted. "Since neither sounds particularly pleasant, rest assured that your throat is safe with me." 

"All right. Hop on, then." Harry pulled the strap of his bag over his head, securing it, and watched over his shoulder as Ivan smoothly slid one leg over the broom, scooting closer until he sat pressed against Harry. 

"Oh, this is cosy," Ivan whispered, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. 

"Hang on," Harry said, but didn't wait for a response and kicked off. His Firebolt shot up into the night sky and Harry steered it into a steep rise, feeling Ivan's arms tightening around him. 

"Bloody hell!" Ivan cried when Harry pushed his Firebolt down, flying them straight to the ground and pulling up again at the last moment. "I should probably tell you I'm not very good with heights," Ivan yelled in Harry's ear over the thundering wind.

"A vampire not good with heights? I thought your kind was good with that sort of thing," Harry yelled back, steering his Firebolt towards the forest, flying fast over the treetops.

"Actually, it's a long story, and it involves a dare, a lot of liquor and me climbing the Eiffel Tower when I was out of my skull. I didn't use the stairs, I slipped and it was a fucking long way down."

Harry snorted with laughter and pushed his broom down, soaring through the trees until they reached the lake. 

"Puppy, these leather trousers cost three hundred pounds and if you get so much as one drop of water on them I will sink my teeth into your neck, understood?" 

"Relax, I know what I'm doing!" Harry yelled and steered his Firebolt across the lake, their feet only just not touching the water. "Look, no hands!" Harry let go of his Firebolt and spread his arms, feeling Ivan press his forehead against his shoulder, holding him so tightly Harry had trouble breathing.

Smiling and feeling carefree despite having a vampire attached to him, Harry slowed his broom down and steered it in the direction of the gates. He halted just in front of them and let Ivan get off first before he stepped down.

"I shall henceforth believe you when you say your broom is the fastest out there," Ivan said solemnly, and gave Harry a short bow. 

"Thanks for returning it," Harry said with a rather shy smile. 

"My pleasure, puppy."

Harry considered Ivan for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, I like you, yes, you may fuck me, and shall we move this to that private patch of grass right over there?"

Harry buried his face in his hands. "That wasn't going to be my question."

"Oh, all right," Ivan sighed, looking disappointed but arrogantly so. "What did you want to ask?"

"You died, right?" Harry worried his bottom lip. "Since you're technically dead and all."

"I'm not technically dead. I'm undead. There's a difference. But yes, I died," Ivan said, his expression suddenly earnest, no longer teasing or flirting. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I died, as well. But they brought me back," Harry whispered, glancing at the ground, kicking his shoe against a stray pebble. "But it felt so odd. Like a dream. And I saw...people who are dead...my parents. But I'm not sure if it was real, and I don't want to ask Sirius and Remus because my parents were their best friends and I know it hurts them to talk about them." Harry snapped his mouth shut when he realized he was babbling. 

"Did you feel good?" Ivan whispered, cocking his head. "Did you feel as if you belonged there? As if you never wanted to leave?"

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding vigorously. 

"Then I'd say you were dead. Did your parents say anything?"

"They told me to go back. That it wasn't my time yet."

Ivan smiled, but it was nothing like his usual smirks or grins and Harry thought for a moment he could see the human Ivan had once been in it. 

"It sounds like you met your parents," Ivan said. "There's much to death, more than most mortals will ever experience while they are alive. Consider yourself lucky you got a glimpse of it in the way you did."

"Okay. Thanks," Harry mumbled, feeling relieved and oddly happy that it hadn't been a dream after all. 

"You're welcome, puppy. And I must be off. I haven't had supper yet and there are at least two tourists strolling about Piccadilly Circus with my name on them."

Harry held out his hand. "It was nice to meet you, Ivan."

Arching an amused eyebrow, Ivan took his hand and shook it slowly. "Look, if you ever feel like chatting, Patrick and I will be staying at the Hog's Head for a while longer. You're always welcome for a drink. Or a shag. Whatever tickles your fancy, darling." Then Ivan leaned over and pressed a cool kiss to the back of Harry's hand. 

"Thanks, I'll think about it," Harry mumbled, heat rising to his cheeks. "Bye."

Harry watched quietly as Ivan pulled the hood of his cloak up and within the blink of an eye he was gone, hidden in the shadows of the night.


	10. Chapter 9

When Harry woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was activate the mirror so he could tell Sirius not to buy a new broom. After some consideration, Harry decided to say that Patrick had sent it back to him, rather than telling them Ivan had delivered it in person. Harry didn't think there was any need for his lovers to know he'd had a chat with Ivan after Sirius and Remus had come to his rescue. After all, nothing bad had happened. 

Sirius, who still appeared to be half-asleep, grunted a reply and said they would talk about it that evening. Harry got dressed and hurried down for breakfast. 

When Harry entered the Great Hall, the student body fell silent for a few moments before erupting in whispers and hushed exclamations. Harry walked to the Gryffindor table and heard the words 'gay', 'queer', 'poofter' and 'shirt-lifter' mentioned dozens of times around him. It appeared that one of his secrets was no longer a secret after his accidental outing the previous night. 

Harry sighed and sank down in the seat Ron had saved him. It wasn't that bad, he figured. It could have been a lot worse had his other secret come out, instead. Harry imagined hearing 'werewolf', 'Dark Creature' and 'monster' whispered around him, and he repressed a shiver that wanted to crawl down his body. 

"Sorry, mate," Ron said, looking apologetic. "Malfoy must have spread the word after class ended last night. You know how fast rumours get around in this place."

"It's not the end of the world," Harry said optimistically, and poured himself a cup of tea. 

"So it's true?" Seamus asked. "You're queer?"

Every student around him stared at Harry expectantly. 

"I'm not really gay," Harry said. "I like both flavours."

"It's called bisexuality and it's perfectly normal," Hermione chimed in, much to Harry's surprise. Ever since Hermione had learned of his relationship with Sirius and Remus she'd been oddly distant, and Harry had figured she was angry with him. But she didn't seem angry at that moment and Harry gave her a grateful smile. 

"Yeah," Ron agreed a bit too loudly. "Harry can shag whoever he likes. It's none of your business."

Seamus shrugged. "I was just asking. Didn't want to believe any of the rumours before checking with Harry first."

And that seemed to be the end of the discussion. Seamus turned to Dean, Hermione went back to her textbook, and Ron continued his breakfast as did everyone else. 

"I wish Bill would show us the vampire as well," Ginny said to Neville, leaning close to him. 

"He wasn't all that spectacular," Ron mused, stacking more toast on his plate. "He was a foul-mouthed plonker, is all."

Harry stifled a laugh in his cup of tea. 

"I mean, it's his fault Harry's secret is out," Ron continued. 

"Still, Lavender said he was gorgeous. Imagine living for so long and still looking so good," Ginny said. 

"He was a bit forward," Neville whispered. 

Seamus snorted. "Try saucy."

"He wasn't that bad," Harry said, which earned him curious looks from the rest. "He had a big mouth and he was arrogant, sure, but he wasn't all that bad, I thought."

"He gave you a right scare, though, mate," Ron supplied helpfully. Harry gave him a brief glare. 

"Vampires are killers," Hermione said, frowning. "There's nothing sexy or gorgeous about them, no matter how they look. They kill people, simple as that."

"Which makes it all the harder to believe Bill actually..." Ron looked as if he couldn't force the remaining words out of his throat.

"I suppose," Harry said, shrugging. Truth was, he had a hard time seeing Ivan as a killer. Not after he'd seen Ivan padding around his room barefooted, making bad jokes, and admitting he didn't like heights when Harry had taken him flying. Which was all the more confusing, since part of Harry knew he should find a vampire repulsive while another part of him kept reminding him that vampires and werewolves did not get along. Harry realized there was still a lot about Dark Creatures he didn't know, and he made a mental note to ask Remus about that later. 

"Time for practice," Ron announced and got up. 

"I have to see Madam Pomfrey first," Harry said. 

Ron leaned closer. "That hex still bothering you? If you're not feeling well you shouldn't play, Harry. I don't want to have to watch you fall off your broom again."

"Nah, I'm fine. It's just a check-up to make sure everything's healed properly."

"All right. See you on the pitch." Ron took off, Ginny and Dean on his heels. 

After Harry finished his modest meal, he hurried to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey looked him over, cast a few spells, gave him a potion and told him to take it easy for a week or so longer, but said otherwise he was in good health.

"Harry, can I have a word?" Bill asked the moment Harry stepped out of the infirmary. He was leaning against the wall, as if he'd been waiting for Harry to come out. 

Harry looked at him warily. "I have practice now."

"All right. After practice, then? How about two this afternoon? Just come to my office."

"Um..." Harry wanted to object, since he had a unpleasant feeling about why Bill wanted to see him. Had Ivan told his secret after all?

"Good, I'll see you then." And without giving Harry a chance to reply, Bill disappeared around the corner. 

"Bugger," Harry sighed, leaning one hand against the wall to steady himself. He had a very unpleasant feeling about this, and he was glad he'd opted for a small breakfast that morning, because his stomach churned at the thought of Ivan having betrayed him. 

During practice, Harry wasn't doing much better, and he found himself constantly distracted. Luckily, his team-mates seemed to think it was a leftover from the hex Harry had been hit with and which had caused him to fall off his broom during their match against Slytherin. Everyone had accepted that explanation when Harry had given it to them after he'd returned to school, and Harry wasn't about to argue with them now, even though his current turmoil was caused by something else entirely.

He kept quiet in the changing room but couldn't help giving a loud snort when Dean suddenly appeared with a towel wrapped around his waist after he'd taken a shower. Dean had never before covered himself up after a shower. Ron was about to say something about that, but Harry signalled him not to bother. If wrapping a towel around themselves after a shower was all his friends were going to do after finding out Harry liked shagging men, Harry wasn't complaining. 

"I'm off to see Bill," Harry said after he finished lunch. "He wanted to talk to me about something. No idea what," he added when Ron and Ginny gave him curious looks. 

"Talk to you later," Ron said, and Harry nodded a quick goodbye. As he walked through the corridors in the direction of Bill's office, Harry's stomach sank in his shoes and his feet felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds each. He knocked on Bill's door with trembling hands, and it swung open after only a second, revealing a smiling Bill. 

"Come in, Harry," he said cheerfully, waving Harry in. "I was just sorting through some artefacts for our next class."

Harry glanced around and noticed a variety of items on Bill's desk. He felt immediately drawn to one object in particular and he couldn't take his eyes of it. On the edge of Bill's desk stood a small, silver wolf, positioned as if it were howling at an invisible moon. 

"That's beautiful," Harry whispered, more to himself than to Bill. He walked closer to the desk and felt compelled to reach his hand out and pick the small wolf up. But the moment his fingers closed around the cool metal, it burned his flesh, and Harry let go of it with a sharp cry. The small statue clattered to the floor. 

"Ah, yes, that's an artefact Charlie sent me," Bill said as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. He bent down and picked it up, and Harry watched wide-eyed as Bill held it without any problems. "It's cursed silver. It holds a very specific curse. People in Eastern Europe use it to identify werewolves."

The silence that suddenly filled the room hammered in Harry's ears, and he immediately forgot about the searing pain in his hand. He stared up at Bill, felt his heartbeat speed up so much that for a moment he was afraid his heart might fail him again, and then turned on his heels with every intention of fleeing the room. 

But Bill was faster and grabbed Harry's wrist, pulling him towards a chair. 

"Have a seat, Harry. I just want to hear what happened, really."

Since all the strength had left his body, Harry could do little else than sink down in the wooden chair, burying his face in his hands. "How did you find out?" he asked weakly.

"After last night it all became quite obvious," Bill said. He reached for the steaming kettle and poured two cups of tea. "There were enough clues along the way, I suppose. The book on the train. Your response when I confronted you about Remus. Your condition after the full moon. And most importantly, your reaction to Ivan. That was what convinced me, because the only creature that reacts to a vampire that strongly is a werewolf."

"So Ivan didn't tell you?" Harry whispered, looking at Bill through his trembling fingers.

Bill put a cup of tea down in front of Harry and sat down opposite of him. "Hmm? No, he didn't. But I guess his fascination with you was also a dead giveaway, combined with the rest of the clues."

Harry felt relieved that Ivan hadn't betrayed him, but the whole situation was just too much to take in and he stayed silent, staring mindlessly at a small crack in the wooden surface of Bill's desk. 

"I assume Remus is –"

"Yeah, but it was an accident," Harry interrupted, finally lowering his hands. 

"I had figured that much," Bill said, giving Harry a small smile. "I hadn't thought he'd infect you deliberately."

"It was my fault."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Harry," Bill whispered. Harry nodded his appreciation. "I assume the headmaster knows?"

"Yeah, he knows. And Snape. And Sirius, of course."

Bill chuckled. "I imagine Sirius wasn't happy with the news."

"No, not really. But he's okay with it now. I mean, not much else he can do but accept it, is there?"

"I guess." Bill sipped his tea and Harry slid off his glasses to rub his suddenly dry and stinging eyes. 

"Look," he said, pushing his glasses back on. "It's really important no one finds out. Remus could get in a lot of trouble if this comes out."

"I have no intention of telling anyone," Bill assured him. "I just wanted to make sure you had...help, and it wasn't something you were facing alone."

"I have help. I take the Wolfsbane potion and I have Sirius and Remus to stay with me during the full moon," Harry said, and reached for his cup of tea. His hand still trembled, but the initial shock had passed and now Harry mostly felt exhausted. He didn't think Bill would tell anyone. He was just worried what Bill would think of him now. 

"That's good. I'm glad to hear that, Harry."

Harry looked at Bill, taking in his warm, hazel eyes, the freckles on his nose and cheeks and the small lines around the corners of his mouth, souvenirs of his ever-present smile. He liked Bill and he trusted Bill, and now that Bill knew about his darkest secret, Harry felt an odd urge to talk to him about it. Up until then, the people who had known his secret had either been closely involved, like Remus and Sirius, or weren't people Harry trusted completely, like Dumbledore and Snape, or were Dark Creatures themselves, like Ivan and Patrick. But Bill was none of those, and Harry saw an opportunity to get a new view on his condition. 

"It's not too bad so far," he whispered, running his fingers along the warm porcelain of his teacup. "I mean, it's not exactly pleasant or anything, but it's bearable."

"The Wolfsbane potion must be a big help," Bill said, and Harry nodded. 

"Yeah, it is. The transformation is still painful, very painful, but I'm me during those nights, and that's not so bad. I guess the real problems won't start until I leave Hogwarts." Bill curved an eyebrow, tilting his head. "I won't be able to become an Auror," Harry added. Through everything that had happened over the past few months, Harry hadn't spent much time worrying about his future career, but it had continued to bother him in the back of his mind that he still had no idea what he'd do come July.

Bill frowned. "Actually, there are curses that can hide your infection for a short period of time," he said, and Harry perked up. "But that still won't help you with those few days a month you won't be fit enough to work."

Harry sagged back in his chair. "Bugger," he sighed. 

"Did I ever tell you I applied for Auror training?" Bill asked. Harry shook his head. "I did. After I finished Hogwarts, I wanted to become an Auror."

"What happened?"

"I didn't make it through the first selection. For some reason, they denied me, even though I had perfect NEWTs and good references. I'd been Head Boy, after all." Bill's expression became bitter. "I guess they didn't think a Weasley was good enough for their elite force."

"God, that sucks," Harry said and meant it. If anyone would be a good Auror, it was Bill, he thought. 

"Yes, it did," Bill said, smiling again. "But then I heard about curse-breaking and I gave that a try. I didn't regret it one moment after I started working for Gringotts. The money was good and the work was even better." 

"And now you're a teacher," Harry said.

Bill nodded. "It's a good job, but I don't plan to do this for the rest of my life. Depending on how things go with the war, I want to move back to Egypt as soon as I can."

Harry tried not to feel disappointed by that. But the idea of Bill being able to go back to a cool job he loved did make Harry feel jealous. Just a bit. 

"How about professional Quidditch?" Bill asked, giving Harry an encouraging smile. "You surely have enough talent for that and they won't screen you for being a Dark Creature."

"I'd still have the same problem," Harry said, remembering how awful he'd felt on his broom that day after the last full moon. "I wouldn't be able to play if the match was too close to the full moon, and what team wants a Seeker with that kind of limitation?"

"That's true," Bill said, his smile fading.

"I mean, I never really gave my future career much thought, but I'd always thought I'd have a normal job of sorts. And when I look at Remus, how hard it is for him to find work, I know it will be the same for me."

"Harry, no offence, but since when has your life ever been normal?" Bill's grin was teasing and it made Harry feel good enough that he managed a smile in return. "I'm sure you'll find something that suits you. Something where it won't matter that you're not completely fit for a few days a month."

"I hope so," Harry whispered, even though he didn't feel particularly hopeful. Maybe he should ask Patrick for a job in his bookstore, Harry thought, and immediately a soft voice added 'Sure, if you want to break up with Remus, that's the perfect thing to do'. Harry repressed a shudder. The thought of not having Remus, or Sirius for that matter, made him feel nauseous.

"My offer still stands." When Harry looked puzzled, Bill said, "For a talk whenever you feel like having one."

"Thanks," Harry said, and drained the last splash of tea from his cup. He knew a dismissal when he heard one, so he set his cup down and pushed himself up. 

"I really have to sort through these artefacts," Bill explained quickly. "I plan to use a few in our next class. Don't worry, I won't bring the wolf trap with me." Bill picked the small, silver wolf up again, looking at it thoughtfully. "It's a nasty artefact, this one. It's spelled to attract werewolves and cursed to hurt them. But it works like a charm."

"It sure does," Harry muttered, still feeling a slight sting in his hand. "I'll see you later. Thanks for...understanding."

"You're welcome, Harry."

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon alone in his dormitory, staring at his homework. He couldn't concentrate, even though he tried writing his extra Potions essay. But the letters in his textbook danced in front of his eyes and his parchment stayed blank while he kept thinking that the whole school knew one secret and Bill knew another. It really seemed impossible to keep any secrets at Hogwarts. 

During dinner, he tried to ignore the hushed voices discussing his sexuality, and he chatted a bit with his friends about simple things like Quidditch and classes. Afterwards, he hurried to get his bag and then made his way to the Shrieking Shack to meet Sirius and Remus. 

"Bill knows," Harry said the moment he emerged from the trapdoor. Sirius, who'd been about to swoop him up in a tight hug, froze, and approached Harry more cautiously. 

"Did he figure it out?" Remus asked, wrapping his arms around Harry gently. 

"Yeah. Apparently my response to last night's Defence Against the Dark Arts subject was a dead giveaway."

Sirius slid his arms around Harry from behind, resting his chin on Harry's shoulder. "I assume Bill will keep his mouth shut."

"He will. He just wanted to make sure I was all right," Harry whispered, nuzzling Remus' throat. "Oh, and I got outed last night as well."

Sirius laughed. "How did that happen?"

"Ivan accidentally mentioned my sexuality during class. Of course, this morning, everyone knew."

"Bloody vampire," Sirius muttered, his grip around Harry tightening. 

"Did anyone give you trouble about it?" Remus asked, drawing his face back so he could look at Harry. 

"No, not really. Although people kept whispering whenever I was around." Harry stood up on his toes and pressed a kiss to Remus' lips. "Can we go upstairs? I just want to...forget for a while."

"Of course we can." 

"We made you a promise last night, didn't we?" Sirius grinned, slung his arm around Harry's shoulder and dragged him along up the stairs. "We intend to keep it."

"Good. I really need to have sex right now," Harry said, stepping inside their bedroom. 

"Do you now?" Remus asked, and Harry recognized the teasing hint in his voice. "I believe we told you last night that we would remind you who you belong to. That doesn't necessarily mean you'll be having sex."

"Huh?" Harry stilled his hand, which had been busy undoing his robes. 

"Punishment shouldn't lead to a reward," Remus whispered, pulling Sirius close to him, leaving Harry standing by himself near the foot of the bed. "I'm going to fuck you, Sirius." Remus nipped at Sirius' bottom lip and then stared at Harry over Sirius' shoulder. "And all you get to do is watch."

"But..." Harry was at a loss for words, as if Remus' comment had just slapped his entire vocabulary out of him. He looked at Sirius in desperation. 

"I'm not running this show, Harry," Sirius said. He grinned at Remus, rubbing his groin against Remus'. "I can't wait to feel that thick cock of yours inside me, Moony. I want you to fuck me hard. Hold nothing back."

Remus growled and attacked Sirius' throat, biting and licking while he tore Sirius' robes open. Harry whimpered. They couldn't possibly mean it. Could they?

"Take those robes off, Harry," Remus ordered, pushing Sirius onto the bed so he could pull Sirius' boxers off while Sirius kicked off his boots. "I want you naked while you watch us. But don't you dare touch yourself."

"That's not fair!" Harry protested when he'd found his voice again. 

"Life isn't fair, Harry," Remus growled, pulling his own robes off. "You being friendly with a wolf we specifically told you to stay away from isn't fair."

"Take it like a man," Sirius said, smirking as he lowered his hand and stroked himself. 

"I want to take it like a man," Harry said, fumbling with his buttons. "But I always thought that involved at least one of your cocks inside me."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, but Remus narrowed his eyes, lowering himself on the bed beside Sirius. "Keep up that childish tone, Harry, and this most certainly will not involve our cocks inside you."

Harry considered protesting some more, but Remus looked as if he meant it, and Harry didn't exactly want to challenge him. So he nodded obediently and shrugged his robes off. Then he peeled his boxers off, his hard cock bobbing up while he stared at it miserably. Sure, he loved it when Remus and Sirius took control of whatever they did in bed, but that usually involved him. The idea of only being able to watch was truly torturous. 

"Sit down there, Harry." Remus pointed at a spot on the foot of the bed. "And I want you on your hands and knees, like the dog that you are," he said to Sirius, who released a heated groan before rolling over and doing as Remus told him. Harry slumped down on the bed, pulling his knees up so he wouldn't be tempted to reach down and stroke himself. 

"Look at this," Remus whispered, pushing Sirius' legs apart and exposing his pucker. "Wouldn't you just love to taste it, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, staring at Sirius' entrance. He knew how it tasted. He knew how it felt to push first his fingers and then his cock inside it. And it was cruel beyond words to have to watch Remus tease the tight ring of muscles with his fingertips while Harry wasn't allowed anywhere near it. 

Sirius pillowed his head on his arms, his arse raised in the air, pushing back against Remus' fingers. "God, fuck me, Moony. Fuck me deep and hard."

Harry's cock throbbed for attention as he watched Remus lean over and flick his tongue against Sirius' pucker until it was slick with saliva. Then Remus pushed two of his fingers inside, earning a satisfied groan from Sirius, and slid them in and out. Harry crossed his arms on top of his knees and bit his knuckles. He wouldn't beg. He would take it like a man. 

"You want it, don't you, Sirius?" Remus asked, a feral grin tugging on his lips. He thrust his fingers inside harder, setting a fast rhythm, and Harry watched helplessly as Sirius bucked back against Remus' hand, eager for more. 

"Fuck, yes, I want it. Now, fuck me now, you bastard!" Sirius released a frustrated breath when Remus pulled his fingers out and reached for the tube of lubricant. 

"You know, I could maybe suck Sirius while you fuck him," Harry offered, his voice quiet if not a tad pleading. "You wouldn't have to touch me or anything, I could just suck him."

"No," was all Remus said. He didn't even look at Harry, but spread a dash of lubricant over his prick with a few rough strokes. "You watch and you don't touch." Shifting Sirius' hips so Harry had a perfect profile view of them, Remus pressed his cock against Sirius' entrance and pushed inside with a low, rumbling groan. 

"Yes, fuck, yes," Sirius moaned, his skin shining with perspiration. Remus tangled one hand in Sirius' long, black hair and pulled his head back, thrusting hard into Sirius' arse. 

"God, yes, Moony, just like that." Sirius' eyes were shut and his mouth open, his lips trembling around sharp breaths of air. Remus leaned over Sirius' back, pulling hard on his hair, baring his throat and raking his free hand over Sirius' flesh, leaving faint red welts. 

Harry whimpered. The sight, the sound and the smell of his lovers having sex right there, not even two feet away from him, drove him nuts. He started trembling with sheer need, and for a moment he was tempted to ignore Remus' order and reach down to stroke his cock. But Harry didn't just want to stroke himself. He wanted to be part of what they had. He wanted to know he belonged with them. 

"Please," he whispered weakly, pushing his glasses back up his nose, which was getting slick with the small drops of sweat that dripped down his forehead. "Please, Remus, please." His glasses slid down his nose again and Harry pulled them off, throwing them to the side. Remus ignored him, pounding into Sirius mercilessly. 

"Fuck, Remus, please, I need it," Harry begged, all ideas of taking it like a man thrown out the window. He didn't care if he had to beg for it, as long as they would give him what he wanted. 

Remus snapped his gaze at him and Harry was shocked to see how much of Moony he could see in those light-brown eyes. He felt himself react to that narrowed, predatory gaze and he lowered himself to the bed, rolling onto his back, submitting himself. 

"Please, Remus, I want to be with you and Sirius. I have to be with you two." Harry scooted closer, keeping his gaze slightly diverted and his throat and belly bared.

"Who do you belong to?" Remus asked, his voice a low rasp. 

"You," Harry sighed, crawling up the bed until he was lying beside Sirius. 

"Who are in your pack?"

"You and Sirius." Harry let his legs fall open, offering himself to Remus in the only way he knew how. 

"Who do you answer to?" Remus moved faster and Harry heard the slick sound of Remus' cock hammering into Sirius while his sac slapped against Sirius' body. 

"You. Only you."

Remus stilled his thrusts, his cock buried deep inside Sirius, and he rotated his hips in teasing circles. Sirius bared his teeth, gasping for breath. 

"Do you think Harry deserves to be fucked, Padfoot?" Remus asked, glaring at Harry from under the sweat-damp strands of hair that fell over his eyes. 

"Please," Harry whispered, casting Sirius a pleading look. 

Sirius blinked his eyes open, focusing them on Harry. "You think you can take us both, Harry? 'Cause I want to feel Moony's cock beside mine when I fuck you."

"Yes," Harry said, pulling his knees up and reaching down to stroke across his pucker. "I want to take you both. I want to feel both your cocks inside me. Hard and fast."

Grinning, Sirius looked at Remus over his shoulder. "I'd say he deserves a shag."

"Prepare him," Remus whispered, and pulled out of Sirius roughly. "With your hand."

Sirius cocked an eyebrow, looking from Remus to Harry while he pushed himself up on his knees. He clenched his hand into a fist and hovered it above Harry's face. "Think you can take that?"

Widening his eyes, Harry stared up at Sirius' fist. The most he'd ever taken thus far, besides both their cocks, were four fingers. Sirius's fist looked like it would never fit. But Harry nodded anyway. He trusted Sirius. And Remus. And he knew they always made it good for him. 

"Good boy," Sirius said with a smirk, and positioned himself between Harry's legs, pushing Harry's knees up to his chest. While Sirius reached for the lube and slicked his entire hand, Remus crawled up the sheets until he leaned over Harry's face. He crushed his lips to Harry's, briefly forcing his tongue into Harry's mouth before dragging Harry's bottom lip between his teeth.

"Fuck, yes," Harry gasped when Sirius pushed two fingers inside him, stroking his prostate with teasing flutters of his fingertips. Remus nipped his way down Harry's throat, his hands curving around Harry's shoulders to hold him down, and Harry let his eyes fall shut, submitting completely to their touches. 

"You've got to relax, Harry," Sirius whispered, adding a third finger. Harry was relaxed. He didn't think he'd ever felt this relaxed before even though his skin was feverish from his arousal and his cock felt desperate for any touch. He was where he wanted to be, at the sweet mercy of his lovers. 

"You taste so good," Remus muttered, licking the skin around one of Harry's nipples. "You taste like us."

"Yeah," Harry agreed mindlessly, pushing back against Sirius's fingers, urging them in deeper. Sirius complied and added a fourth finger, carefully twisting them as he stroked Harry's pucker into submission. 

Remus' lips and tongue and teeth moved down Harry's body at an agonizing pace, kissing and licking and nipping every patch of skin in their path. When Remus' mouth finally closed around the head of Harry's pulsing cock, Harry keened, grabbing hold of Remus' hair and silently begging him to take in more, to suck him down all the way. But Remus didn't budge and only suckled around the sensitive head of Harry's prick, teasing the slit with the tip of his tongue. 

"Don't come yet," Sirius said, closing his fingers around Harry's sac. "Don't come until we say you can come." Remus hummed his agreement and Harry nodded his head vigorously against the sheets, his fingers tangled in strands of Remus' hair. Sirius kept kneading Harry's sac, just hard enough to keep Harry's climax from rushing up his prick, and slowly added his thumb, squeezing his stretched fingers together as he slid his hand past the knuckles inside Harry. 

"Oh fucking god," Harry gasped, his eyes snapping open, but he saw only white, his body singing with pleasure. 

"I think that's enough for now," Sirius whispered, carefully twisting his hand around before pulling it out ever so slowly. 

"I agree. Time to stake our claim," Remus said after he released Harry's cock. "I want you to ride me, Harry."

Harry needed a few moments to steady himself, inhaling deep breaths, and when he turned his face he saw Remus lying on his back, looking at him intently. Harry got to his knees, taking in Remus' slender body, all lean muscles over angular bones and scars crisscrossing over pale skin. But what stood out most was Remus' hard, glistening cock, and Harry couldn't tear his gaze away as he let Sirius guide him to Remus. He straddled Remus, resting his hands on Remus' shoulders while Sirius spread his arse cheeks and pressed Remus' cock against Harry's eager entrance. 

"So good," Harry moaned, sinking down on Remus' hot prick until it was sheathed inside him, filling him. 

"Hold still," Sirius whispered behind him, pushing Harry down against Remus. Harry felt two fingers slide in beside Remus' prick, slicking him up just a bit more and making sure he was ready. And god, he was ready. He wanted to feel them both so much it made his cock throb and his sac hurt. 

"Oh, bloody hell, yes," Sirius groaned, his fingers digging into Harry's hips while he pressed his cock inside Harry as well. "Fuck, Harry, Moony, fucking good."

Remus put his hand on the side of Harry's face and pulled him in for a searing kiss, thrusting his tongue inside ruthlessly. Harry kissed him back, let Remus devour his mouth while Sirius started rocking his hips, his prick sliding in and out of Harry alongside Remus', faster and faster with every push. 

Remus' face became a pale blur, and when Harry closed his eyes he saw white again, his body surrendering to his lovers' mouths and hands and cocks. Sirius leaned against Harry's back, panting against Harry's neck as Remus kept claiming Harry's mouth while they both fucked him hard and fast, just as Harry wanted it. 

"You may come now," Remus whispered against Harry's lips, slightly out of breath. Harry gasped into his mouth, his body obeying Remus' order before he could consciously tell it to, and his cock, which was rubbing roughly between their moving bodies, spurted his release against their sweat-slick skin. 

"God, god, god," was all Harry could moan, his body slumping between his lovers while his orgasm burst through him, making his limbs tremble and his mind soar. 

"Almost there, Moony," Sirius panted, holding Harry tighter. 

"Yes, almost," Remus breathed, grabbing hold of Harry's hips so he could buck up harder, driving his cock in deeper. 

"Fuck, almost, fuck, yes." Sirius threw his head back and Harry watched over his shoulder with one eye as Sirius' face screwed up in pleasure and he felt Sirius' release spill hotly inside him. Remus pulled Harry down for another kiss, and Harry felt Remus' lips tremble beneath his own when Remus climaxed, mixing his release with Sirius' in Harry's sore body. 

"Holy fucking god," Sirius sighed, slumping down on top of Harry, pressing Harry down against Remus. Harry couldn't find any words to express how utterly good he felt, so he merely moaned his satisfaction. 

"Hmm," Remus agreed, stroking both Harry's and Sirius' hair. "That was good."

"Try bloody brilliant," Sirius said, and kissed Harry's shoulder. 

Harry still hadn't found his voice, but he was having difficulty breathing, so he gently nudged against Sirius with his elbow, letting out a strangled breath. 

"Sorry about that." Sirius grinned, pressed a firm kiss to Harry's throat and eased himself out of Harry. He flopped down beside Remus and Harry pushed himself up on weak arms, hissing when Remus' softening cock slipped from his sensitive arse. Then he dropped himself to the sheets between his lovers, blinking up at the ceiling, wondering where all those flashing blots of light suddenly came from. 

"You're not going to pass out again, are you?" Sirius asked, stroking Harry's hair off his forehead. 

"Don't think so," Harry muttered. "Ask me again in five minutes."

"You're brilliant," Sirius whispered, kissing Harry's swollen lips with care. "You're both brilliant," he added, and leaned over Harry to press a kiss to Remus' lips. 

"You're not so bad yourself," Remus replied in a haughty tone, which earned him a slap from Sirius. Harry just grinned, feeling perfectly at ease and completely satisfied. 

"That was so cruel, though," he said, glancing at Remus. 

Remus considered that for a moment with a thoughtful frown. "You needed a reminder, Harry. I do think it's perfectly clear again whom you belong to."

"I don't think there ever was any doubt," Harry whispered, eyeing Remus curiously. Sirius laughed, and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. Narrowing his eyes, Remus regarded Harry and then leaned closer to give him a soft kiss. 

"I didn't doubt you, Harry. I just wanted to give you a reminder."

Harry smiled and stretched, his muscles relaxed and his arse pleasantly sore. He rolled onto his side as well, back pressed against Sirius, and rested a hand on Remus' chest, tracing his fingers through the soft hair that covered it. Remus watched him with hooded eyes, one arm hooked above his head and the other one stroking his spent sac. As Harry's fingers wandered down, following the many scars that marred Remus' skin, he remembered something. 

"I don't have a scar," he whispered, stroking his fingers across the most important scar on Remus' body. 

"What?" Remus frowned. 

"I don't have a scar. When I was...with them yesterday, Patrick showed me his scar and he kind of made it sound like it was a big deal for a werewolf to have a scar."

"Of course you don't have a scar," Sirius said, his hand tracing mindless patterns on Harry's hip. "You weren't bitten."

"I know," Harry said. "But what does that make me then, when every werewolf has a scar?"

Harry felt Remus' chest rise and fall a bit faster than it had done a minute ago, and he withdrew his hand, giving Remus a questioning look. 

"It doesn't matter, Harry. You're a werewolf, just like me," Remus said. 

"Yeah, I thought so." Harry stayed silent for a while. He couldn't hold back all the questions that floated to the surface of his mind. "And why did I react to Ivan...to a vampire so strongly at first and then after a while I didn't feel uncomfortable at all anymore?"

Remus blinked and turned his face to look at Harry. "Well, it's natural for a werewolf to react strongly to a vampire, like I told you a while ago."

"I know, but later on I didn't react to him at all. Why is that?"

Pursing his lips, Remus looked away again, and Harry could see him stiffen just a bit. "I don't know, Harry."

"And what about those Ministry decrees?" Harry went on. 

"That's hardly amusing pillow talk," Sirius said. 

"And it's something you shouldn't worry about yet, Harry. There will be plenty of time for that when you leave Hogwarts," Remus added with a sigh. 

Harry felt a sharp pang of irritation in his chest. He just wanted a few answers and Sirius and Remus kept dismissing him. "I think it's something I should worry about now, since I won't be able to do anything once I leave Hogwarts, thanks to this curse."

Remus closed his eyes and Harry felt Sirius tense against his back. 

"I mean, I want to do something with my life after school. I just don't know what because everything I thought about doesn't work for a werewolf," he explained, his voice softer now.

"You hardly need to work," Sirius said. "I've got plenty of money to keep the three of us, and you've got quite a few Galleons yourself."

"I know I don't need to work, but maybe I want to work," Harry said, just a tad bitterly. 

Remus still had his eyes closed, his face a guarded mask. "I'm sure we'll find something for you before your school year is over. I just don't think this is the right time to discuss it."

Inhaling a deep breath, Harry glared at Remus, defiance flaring to life inside him. "Why did you break up with him?" Remus' eyes snapped open, his pupils dilating. "Why did you break up with Patrick?" Harry continued. "I know you two were together for a year. Why do you hate him so much?"

Growling, Remus pushed himself up, turning his back to Harry. 

"Harry!" Sirius snapped, squeezing Harry's shoulder in warning. 

"And that is your business how?" Remus asked softly, not looking at Harry. 

"It's not. I'm just trying to understand," Harry replied, sitting up as well. 

"Exactly. It's not your business, so there's nothing for you to understand."

"Harry, enough," Sirius chided, pulling Harry back down. "Moony, please. Harry, don't stick your nose into things it doesn't belong in, understood?"

Sighing, Harry nodded and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry, Remus," he finally said. "I'm really only trying to make sense of everything."

"I know," Remus whispered. Stiffly, he lay back down beside Harry, but still didn't look at him. Harry rested his hand against Remus', stroking his fingers over Remus' palm. Remus answered him by squeezing Harry's fingers. 

"We all right again?" Sirius asked, giving them both a tired look. 

"Yeah," Harry said. 

"Of course," Remus agreed. Harry pressed back against Sirius and smiled when Remus rolled onto his side, wrapping his arms around Harry as well. They lay together for a long time, stroking and kissing and confirming their unique bond.

*~*~*~*~*

After his brief disagreement with Remus, Harry managed to resist looking for answers elsewhere for a total of one week. At first he told himself Remus was right, he had to concentrate on school for the time being and whatever Remus had done with past lovers wasn't any of Harry's business.

But when the questions kept gnawing at his mind, Harry first thought about other options he had other than breaking his promise to Sirius and Remus and seeking Patrick and Ivan out again. The problem was, that the questions Harry had couldn't be answered by anyone other than a werewolf, and a specific werewolf at that. 

So it happened that Harry packed his bag and grabbed his Firebolt that next Saturday evening. He'd thought about using the secret passageway out of the castle, but Honeydukes was closed this time of the evening and having to break in and out of the store would draw too much attention. So Harry opted for a quick broom ride instead. 

Concealing his Firebolt beneath his invisibility cloak, Harry told his friends he had business and sneaked out of the castle, keeping an eye on the Marauder's Map to make sure he wouldn't run into Filch. Or worse, Snape. While Harry had finished his extra essay on time, Snape still seemed quite unhappy with him, even more so than usual. Harry had lost forty points during his last Potions class and he had yet to understand why. 

The flight to Hogsmeade was uneventful, though Harry kept his invisibility cloak wrapped around himself securely. The last thing he wanted was to be spotted by the wrong people. But when he approached the Hog's Head, he stuffed his invisibility cloak into his bag and pulled up the hood of his regular cloak instead, to give him some sort of privacy. His wand hidden in the sleeve of his cloak, Harry pushed open the door of the Hog's Head and quickly scanned the smoky room. There were more people present than the week before, but Patrick and Ivan were nowhere to be seen, so Harry crossed the pub quickly and walked up the stairs. 

When he reached room number three, Harry took a deep breath and knocked twice. The door swung open immediately, and Harry looked up at Ivan's grinning face. 

"Ah, room service. I was just feeling a bit famished."

While he waited for a bolt of instinctual fear that didn't come, Harry let his gaze travel down Ivan's body -- Ivan's very naked body, with the evidence of a recent shag still staining his pale skin. Ivan leaned against the doorway, and Harry thought he looked like one of those marble statues you saw in old museums, eternal and timeless.

"You've just missed the shag, but you're still in time for a chat," Ivan said, amused. 

"Um...hi," Harry muttered, looking down at his shoes. 

"Who is it?" Patrick called from somewhere in the room. 

"It's the puppy," Ivan said, stepping away from the door and waving Harry inside. 

"Evening, Harry." Patrick stood near the bed, zipping up his jeans. The upper half of his body was still bare, and as Harry shuffled inside the room he noticed that it looked very much like Remus'. A bit broader perhaps, but equally scarred. 

"Hullo," Harry said, looking anywhere but at Ivan and Patrick. "I was wondering if we could have a talk." 

"Sure we can," Patrick replied, reaching for a blue chequered shirt. 

"It's just...Sirius and Remus don't know I'm here and I'd like to keep it that way," Harry confessed softly. Patrick gave him a curious look, but nodded his agreement. 

"Sneaking off like that all by yourself." Ivan clucked his tongue disapprovingly, but his smile belied his words. He leaned against one of the chairs, cocking his head while he looked Harry over. 

"Does he always answer the door without any clothes on?" Harry asked Patrick. 

"Only when I know it's you, darling," Ivan whispered in Harry's ear, and Harry gasped in surprise, because he'd once again neither heard nor seen Ivan move. He looked at Ivan in confusion. "I recognized your heartbeat before you'd even knocked on our door," Ivan explained patiently. 

"Ivan, shut it. Clean yourself up and put on some clothes," Patrick said with just a hint of irritation in his voice. "We don't want to scare the lad off, now do we?"

"How can anyone be scared of this?" Ivan wondered, waving a hand down his own body while he sauntered towards the bathroom.

"Never mind him," Patrick said, buttoning up his shirt. "His ego is as big as he is old."

"I heard that!" came an offended voice from the bathroom. 

Harry chuckled and sat down when Patrick gestured for him to take a seat. He watched quietly as Patrick poured one glass of whiskey and two glasses of wine. Harry decided not to object when Patrick handed him one of the glasses of wine, since the wine hadn't tasted all that bad the previous week. 

"What did you want to talk about? Anything specific or just a chat?" Patrick sat down, and reached for his pack of cigarettes. 

"Just some...werewolf stuff."

"Ah. Remus not been telling you all you wanted to hear?" Patrick asked, lighting his cigarette.

"Not exactly. He tells me plenty of stuff. Just not everything I want to know." Harry shrugged and sipped his wine. 

"That sounds like Remus. He always had trouble accepting certain things."

"I was wondering about Ivan, actually," Harry said, searching for the right words. "When I first met him, he scared me to death."

"You flatter me, puppy," Ivan drawled, stepping out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of leather trousers and a white shirt hanging open around his lean torso. 

Harry gave him a brief glare, but continued as if Ivan wasn't there. "But then last week, in here, and later when Ivan returned my broom, I wasn't feeling uncomfortable at all. I don't get that."

"I do," Patrick said, his smile wide and warm. "That means you've accepted me as your alpha."

"Huh?"

"It's called behaviour synchronization, if you want to use fancy words," Ivan supplied, flopping down in the last unoccupied chair. When both Harry and Patrick stared at him wordlessly, he added, "I read up on canines when I started shagging one. Seemed like the smart thing to do."

Patrick shook his head fondly, but Harry frowned in confusion. 

"I still don't get it," he mumbled. 

"It's simple. It means that you, or at least a certain part of you, recognizes me as your leader. Because I display no fear around Ivan, neither will you."

"Ah." Harry tried to take that in. 

"There goes my reputation," Ivan complained, reaching for his glass of wine. 

"Are you really a Master Vampire?" Harry asked, looking at Ivan curiously. 

"Of course I am," Ivan said, his eyes narrowing. 

"It's just...you don't seem like much of a Master Vampire," Harry said, giving a half-shrug. 

Ivan leaned forward in his chair, giving Harry an amused smile. "What did you expect then, puppy? A cape? A bad accent? I vant to suck yerrr blood? Took me a century and a half to get rid of that blasted accent in the first place."

Harry bit his lip, cast a quick glance in Patrick's direction, and then looked at Ivan, meeting his intense gaze. "No, none of that. Just a more mature attitude, perhaps."

Howling with laughter, Patrick sloshed half of his whiskey over the rim of his glass. Ivan stared at Harry for a moment longer and then relaxed back in his chair, grinning. 

"You're funny, puppy."

Harry gave Ivan a smile that wasn't completely apologetic and sipped his wine quietly, meanwhile gathering his thoughts so he wouldn't forget any of the questions he'd planned to ask. There were many to which he hoped to find an answer, but one question stood out so much that Harry couldn't possibly ignore it. 

"Can I ask you a personal question?" he asked, glancing at Patrick. 

"Aye."

"How did you two meet? And end up together? I mean, it's not a normal combination is it?" 

"Define normal," Ivan said, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table and giving Harry a challenging glance. But Patrick waved Ivan's comment away and cleared his throat. 

"I met him when Voldemort invited us over for a chat. At first, I thought he was just another conceited undead, but after Voldemort managed to piss both of us off, we went down to a pub and bonded over plenty of alcohol and our mutual displeasure over certain attitudes and laws."

"And then he fucked me in the men's room," Ivan added with a smirk. 

"Aye." Patrick nodded, smiling. "But I thought that was it. Met him, had a few drinks with him, shagged him, end of story. Until he showed up on my doorstep a week later. The bastard had tracked me down."

"You weren't exactly difficult to find. Having a sign above your door that reads 'McKinley's Books' is hard to overlook." Ivan snorted, rolling his eyes. 

"And then what?" Harry asked when both men stayed quiet for a moment. 

"We argued," Patrick said.

"And then he fucked me on the counter." Ivan's smirk got even more smug. 

"And I decided to keep him around," Patrick said, giving Ivan a teasing smile. "I figured he's a handsome enough bloke, even if he's a bit of a corpse."

Harry snickered and silently agreed with Patrick. Ivan was a handsome bloke for someone who was technically dead. Or undead. 

"Oh, be still my dead heart." Ivan gave Patrick a playful kick. "You're such a romantic, love. No wonder I couldn't possibly resist your charm."

"I try," Patrick confided to Harry, who snickered again and drained the last of his wine. He started to feel pleasantly warm while his mind became light, and the questions that had seemed so important before suddenly didn't matter all that much anymore. He looked at Patrick again, trying to find words for what he was thinking. 

"Are all Dark Creatures gay?"

"What?" Patrick gasped, seemingly stuck between wanting to laugh and wanting to stare at Harry in surprise. Instead, he glanced at Ivan. 

"Don't look at me," Ivan said quickly. "I'm a vampire. I'd shag a tree if I thought it would get me off."

"Why do you ask, lad?" Patrick pushed himself up and walked to the side table. He returned with the bottles of wine and whiskey and refilled their glasses while Harry took his time to form a reply. 

"Because all the Dark Creatures I've met are gay. Or bisexual or something. Not that I've met a whole lot of them," Harry said, nodding his thanks at Patrick. 

"Well, to be perfectly honest, it's a lot safer for a male werewolf to shag a bloke," Patrick said with a thoughtful frown as he sat down again. 

"How is that?" Harry asked, confused. 

"Because werewolves aren't allowed to reproduce, according to decree two. If we do get a lass pregnant, we can be sentenced to death."

Harry's mouth dropped open in sheer shock. Patrick nodded gravely. 

"One of the perks of being a vampire," Ivan said, his voice more serious than his words would suggest. "We're infertile. My semen is as dead as I am."

"It has even happened that a wolf was set up," Patrick said, running the tip of his finger over the rim of his glass, staring at nothing in particular. "You think you've found a nice, accepting lass, and after you've shagged her for a while she accidentally forgets her contraceptive spells and reports you to the Ministry."

"Fuck," Harry breathed. 

"Exactly," Ivan said, snickering. "That will make you think twice about parking your penis in a fanny, won't it?"

"I'd say," Patrick said. "Before I got infected, I never gave blokes much thought and preferred the ladies. But after I became a wolf and after hearing all those stories, men's arses started looking plenty interesting."

"How old were you when you got infected?" Harry asked. 

"I was seventeen."

"Oh, so was I," Harry said, perking up. "Well, I was still sixteen, but I turned seventeen a couple of weeks later."

Patrick smiled. "I'd just finished Hogwarts. I was on my summer vacation."

"You went to Hogwarts?"

"Of course I did. You're looking at Hufflepuff's Keeper."

Harry grinned. "I'm the Seeker for Gryffindor," he said with no small amount of pride in his voice. 

"Then you've got yourself a perfect broom, lad." Patrick nodded his head at Harry's Firebolt, which lay on the floor beside Harry's chair. "I wish I'd had a broom like that in my time."

"Yeah, it's a great broom. Sirius gave it to me for Christmas. Do you still play?"

Patrick shook his head, his smile fading. "I got a position with the Kenmare Kestrels right out of Hogwarts. I was meant to start playing for them after that summer."

"Did they find out about the infection?" Harry asked softly. 

"The whole bloody world found out," Patrick said, his tone bitter. "I spent three weeks in St Mungo's. I almost didn't make it. That wolf tore my whole throat open and it took plenty of Healers to magic it back together."

Harry swallowed and then took a gulp of his wine. He ended up coughing when some of it went down the wrong way.

"Easy, lad," Patrick said. "That's how things are for our kind."

"I don't know much about it," Harry confessed, glancing at Patrick. "I know it's hard to get work, I've seen that with Remus, but that's about it."

"It figures Remus didn't tell you." Despite Harry's curious look, Patrick didn't elaborate but reached for a cigarette. 

"You wolves get the better end of the deal," Ivan said, his voice low and almost threatening. "At least you have some rights. My kind has no rights, according to your laws. We aren't even wizards. We don't even recognize your Ministry's authority. And yet they believe they can control us."

Harry was at a loss for words and merely stared at Ivan. 

"Your Ministry assumes all vampires are killers, and thus when they manage to catch one it's the stake for us. Of course, it's not easy to catch us, and when we don't snack too much on the wizarding population they tend to leave us alone. Still, to them we are vermin that must be destroyed."

"But..." Harry frowned and briefly bit his lip. "You are a killer, right? I mean, you drink human blood. Have you never killed anyone?"

"Of course I have." Ivan rolled his eyes. "I've killed plenty of mortals and I know that makes me a killer." He leaned forward, his blue eyes fixing Harry to his chair. "The question isn't if I am a killer. The question is if I want to be a killer."

Inhaling a shaky breath, Harry fingered his glass of wine, trying to take in all that Ivan was saying. 

"What Ivan means, and this goes for both werewolves and vampires, is that instead of looking for a solution, the Ministry only bothers with restricting us. Killing us, if they're given the chance," Patrick said, and downed the last of his whiskey. He took a drag of his cigarette and watched Harry curiously. 

"But there's the Wolfsbane Potion," Harry said quietly. 

"Aye, but that wasn't invented by the Ministry. It was invented by a potions maker whose nephew got infected."

"I didn't know that," Harry mumbled. 

"And the Wolfsbane Potion is bloody expensive. Besides, even if you have the money to pay for it, it's nearly impossible to find a skilled enough brewer to make it for you. Most potions makers aren't interested in a werewolf's wishes or Galleons."

"I take it every month. Snape, the Potion's master at Hogwarts, brews it for Remus and me." 

"Then you're one of the few lucky ones, lad," Patrick said, a slow smile tugging on his lips. "The rest of us can only lock ourselves up."

"At least you have a potion," Ivan said. "No one ever bothered cooking up something similar for us." He turned to Harry with a grin, his fangs flashing in the candlelight. "Does that Snape happen to have a close relative I can turn? Perhaps that will convince him to look into aiding the undead."

Despite the seriousness of the subject, Harry snickered, but that might have been the wine that rushed to his head. He inwardly shook himself and screwed his face up in a more earnest expression. 

"There are tons of details to all of this, but all you really have to know is that the Ministry has never done anything to support Dark Creatures. Instead, they only control and destroy." Patrick waved a hand, the smoke of his cigarette leaving a grey trail in the air. "It's also why I'm stuck here."

"You're stuck here?" Harry asked. 

"Aye. After they banned me from the Ministry, they sent those bloody demonstrators to my home. My bookstore is located in a Muggle part of Dublin and they hoped to nail my arse for exposing Muggles to magic and send me to Azkaban for at least two years. I was forced to close my store and move here for the time being."

"Damn, that sucks," Harry sighed, feeling sorry for Patrick and angry at the Ministry on his behalf. 

"Don't use such tempting vocabulary, darling," Ivan drawled, darting the tip of his tongue out to lick his lips. Patrick looked at him with a curved eyebrow and Ivan answered it with a daring grin and an innocent shrug. 

Harry smiled at them both, amused at their familiarity and affection. They reminded him of Sirius and Remus in a way. Two opposites to balance each other. 

"It's getting late," he said, putting his empty glass on the coffee table. "I'd best be off before my housemates come looking for me." He pushed himself up, but his knees felt like pudding and he swayed on his feet for a moment. Then Ivan was by his side and gripped his elbow, steadying him. 

"You don't drink much, do you?" Patrick asked, rising from his chair as well. 

"No. This was the first time I've had wine, actually."

"We're corrupting you," Patrick said. Ivan leered at Harry, which made Harry snort with laughter. 

"Ivan, walk the lad down. Make sure he doesn't stumble down the stairs and break his neck."

"You're right. It would be a waste of such a lovely neck." Ivan ran two fingers down Harry's throat, but Harry pulled back unsteadily. 

"I'm fine, really. You don't have to see me down. Thanks for the drinks and the talk." Harry took a deep breath and bent down to pick up his bag and his broom. 

"You're welcome, lad. Come back any time."

"Bye, bye, puppy."

Harry waved once, left the room on wobbly legs, and managed not to trip down the stairs. As he flew back to Hogwarts, pleasantly dizzy and his mind filled with new information to think about, Harry decided it wouldn't hurt anyone if he went to see Patrick and Ivan again sometime. After all, nothing bad had happened.


	11. Chapter 10

"Pathetic, Potter!" Snape yelled. "You're not even trying!"

"I am trying!" Harry snapped back, turning away from Remus to glare at Snape. He really was trying. But ever since his accident, he hadn't managed to penetrate Remus' mind in the present again. Sometimes he felt brief flashes of emotions before the dark void sucked him in. Just as had happened when Snape started yelling at him. 

"You should have been able to penetrate Lupin's mind correctly. Instead, you're just messing about, not taking these lessons seriously at all. I refuse to waste my time on an imbecile who can't follow simple instructions."

"Severus," Remus said, both his tone and his expression mild, but Harry ignored Remus' obvious attempt at keeping the peace and stepped up to Snape. 

It had only been three days since the full moon. And while that night had passed uneventfully, as had the following day Harry had spent sleeping with Sirius and Remus in the Shack, Harry could still feel both the ache in his body and the remnants of the wolf in his mind. He wasn't about to take shit from anyone, least of all from Snape. 

"I am doing the best I can!" Harry yelled. 

"It is not good enough!" Snape snarled. 

"Harry, please," Remus said, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry shrugged him off, his fingers tightening around his wand. 

If Snape didn't think he was good enough, perhaps he should show Snape just how much Legilimency he did know. Harry knew invading the privacy of Snape's mind would get him in trouble, but it was easy not to think about that. In fact, it was remarkably easy to go with that vicious part of him that wanted to hurt Snape. To go with his _wolf_ and let it make this decision for him. 

Harry narrowed his eyes at Snape, his glasses slipping down his nose. "Legilimens," he whispered, keeping his wand down but pointing the tip in Snape's direction. And what he had hoped happened; he caught Snape by surprise and thus Snape had no time to put up a defensive Occlumency barrier. 

Faintly hearing Remus call out his name, Harry let himself be sucked inside the void of Snape's mind. He didn't just enter it, he invaded it, throwing every last bit of mental power he could find into the penetration, forcing himself past recent images and monotonous whispers to the very core of Snape's mind. 

Snape fought back, tried to throw Harry out, but Harry was surprisingly strong, letting his darker side, the one that always wanted to argue with others, the one that wanted to punch people's faces in when they offended him or his friends, the one that had wanted to hurt Snape for insulting him once again, anchor itself in Snape's being until he found the one memory Snape was trying to keep from him above all others. 

Harry found himself in the secret passageway below the Whomping Willow and he felt anxious and excited, gleeful even, as he watched a young Snape stride forward by the light of his wand.

A deep howl echoed somewhere in front of them, followed by a sharp growl and the sound of wood splintering. Young Snape stopped, and Harry felt the hesitant excitement morph into pulsing terror when two amber eyes lit up in the darkness. Harry watched in horrified fascination as Moony stalked towards young Snape, his lips raised and saliva dripping off his teeth. 

Moony looked beautiful, Harry realized, and that notion surprised him. He knew he should feel sorry for young Snape, because encountering a werewolf in a dark tunnel was something you shouldn't wish on your worst enemies, but Harry couldn't help admiring Moony. He understood Moony. He was part of Moony, after all, and even feeling Snape's overwhelming fear didn't stop Harry from wishing Moony would strike and attack. 

But focusing on Moony instead of Snape's mind broke Harry's concentration, and at once he was back inside Snape's office, sprawled out on the floor. He looked up at Snape and a sharp surge of fear whirled through him. 

Snape looked as if he truly wanted to kill Harry. But before he could move, Remus stepped between them, urging Harry to get to his feet. 

"Severus, I'm sure Harry didn't –"

"Get out! Both of you, get out!" Snape shrieked. "This is the last time I will ever do anything to aid you, Potter, you ungrateful, arrogant, worthless simpleton!"

"Severus, please, there is no need to –"

"Lupin, get out now and take that feeble-minded Gryffindor with you." Snape's voice had dropped to its usual baritone and held a palpable threat. Harry scrambled to his feet and met Snape's dark gaze, unfazed. He didn't feel worried or scared. He felt vindicated, and his lips tugged up into a sly smile. But before either Snape or Harry could say or do anything else, Remus grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him out of Snape's office. 

"Harry, that was completely uncalled for," Remus chided, releasing Harry's elbow when they had rounded a corner and were out of Snape's earshot. "What were you thinking, taking on Snape like that?"

"I wanted Moony to bite him," Harry murmured, remembering how he'd felt inside Snape's mind. 

The angry blush that coloured Remus' cheeks drained from his face, leaving him ghostly white. He stopped and looked at Harry for a moment. Then he nodded, as if he'd come to a decision. "This way, Harry."

Too wrapped up in his memory of Snape's memory, Harry followed Remus quietly and they climbed the stairs, rounded a few corners and reached a corridor Harry had never seen before.

"I believe it's time for a talk," Remus said, halting before a dusty suit of armour. He lifted the helmet's visor and Harry watched, surprised, as the suit of armour slid out of the way, revealing a narrow spiral staircase leading up a shadowed tower. 

"Back in our days the Astronomy Tour was usually occupied, and your father made it perfectly clear he didn't want to walk in on us in our dormitory. So Sirius and I used this tower whenever we felt certain needs," Remus said, leading Harry up the stairs. Harry smiled at the idea of a young Sirius and Remus hurrying up those very steps to shag each other silly every chance they got.

They reached a small, round room, bare save for a pair of dust-covered, wooden chairs and a rickety coffee table. Remus lit the half-burned candle on the table with a flick of his wand and gestured Harry to take a seat. Uncaring about the grime, Harry lowered himself on the chair and let out a tired sigh. 

Now that he was alone with Remus, the viciousness he'd felt in Snape's office was gone, and Harry felt his recent transformation weigh down on his aching bones.

"Tell me what happened," Remus said.

Harry shrugged. "I got tired of Snape's constant criticism. I thought I'd show him what I do know of Legilimency."

Shaking his head, Remus stared at the tiny flame flickering in the darkness around them. "I assume you saw Snape's memory of the night Sirius sent him to the Shack?" Harry nodded and Remus folded his hands in his lap. "And you say you wanted...Moony to attack him?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm not sure why because I could feel Snape's fear. I just felt...connected with Moony at that moment."

"Harry, remember how I told you Moony wanted to infect you?" When Harry nodded, Remus continued, "It's hard sometimes to distinguish between the wolf and you, especially during the full moon without the Wolfsbane potion. But also during the rest of the month, that side of you can cause you to want certain things you normally wouldn't want. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"I think so," Harry said, frowning. "Does it have to do with the two souls thing and the fact that we're not completely human anymore?"

"It does, yes," Remus replied, looking thoughtful, as if he were choosing his words with care. "But you don't have two souls, Harry. You have two souls merged into one. And yes, that does make you not entirely human and it does cause those odd feelings and your trouble with control. But you must learn to control it."

"I know," Harry said, slightly irritated. "You keep saying that. And I keep trying, but honestly, I haven't a clue what I'm doing."

"It's hard to explain. I have those feelings as well, Harry. I sometimes want something the wolf in me wants. Every werewolf has them."

Harry thought about what Remus had said, and suddenly something dawned on him. He looked at Remus with wide eyes. "When you were stuck as Moony, did you want to infect me? Not just Moony?"

Pursing his lips, Remus lowered his head, his hair obscuring his eyes. "I did, at that time, because that part of me, that part of my soul was in control."

"And when Snape snuck into the passageway, did you want to bite him?"

"I wanted to tear him limb from limb," Remus whispered. "That was the hardest part to deal with when I transformed back the next morning. Not Sirius' betrayal. I was angry with him, furious, of course. But mostly I was angry with myself, because at that time I wanted to hurt Snape. That's what it's like to be a werewolf without the Wolfsbane potion, Harry. And you experienced a small part of that just now, when you allowed that side of you to take control."

Remus raised his head and Harry watched shadows dance over his pale skin. He thought about what he would say to that. "I don't want to feel that way," he finally said. "But I don't know how to control it completely. I manage it most of the time. Just not constantly." Harry gave Remus a small smile. "And you haven't exactly explained anything."

"I realize that," Remus said, returning Harry's smile. "I just wanted to...spare you all that, I suppose."

"Like how you wanted to spare me the details about the Ministry's laws," Harry said. Remus narrowed his gaze, but Harry continued, seeing a chance to finally confront Remus about a few things he wanted to know. "Or like how you wanted to spare me the story of how you got infected? Or how you ended up shagging the man who had infected you and how things went wrong between you two? I want to know those things, Remus. I'm shagging the man who infected me as well, and I can't bear the thought of things going wrong between us."

"I wanted to protect you, Harry," Remus whispered. "But I realize now that this isn't the kind of protection you need."

"Will you tell me? Please?"

"Yes. I think it is time you learned about a few of my experiences," Remus said. He leaned back in his chair, stretched his legs out in front of him, and took a deep breath. "As you know, I was six when I got infected. We were on a camping trip in Ireland. My mother was a Muggle and she loved camping the Muggle way."

Remus paused for a moment and Harry leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, listening to Remus attentively. 

"I woke up in the middle of the night and I had to use the bathroom. I didn't want to wake my parents, since I thought I was a big enough boy to pee by myself. But it was dark in our tent and I couldn't find the bucket my parents used for midnight bathroom breaks. So I stepped outside, peed, and got distracted by the stars in the clear sky."

Lowering his gaze, Remus swallowed audibly. "I wandered off, disregarding the warnings my parents had given me to always stay close to the tent, especially after dark. And then, out of nowhere, this monster appeared. It attacked instantly and all I really remember is feeling incredible pain and screaming as loudly as I could.

"My father came to my rescue and hexed the werewolf off me. It disappeared into the darkness and my parents rushed me to a nearby Muggle doctor. He stopped the bleeding and stitched me up. I suspect my father Obliviated him afterwards, but he's never confirmed that to me when I've asked him."

"So that's why no one knew you were a werewolf for so long," Harry said, remembering Patrick's explanation of how the world had found out about him. "You never went to St Mungo's."

"Exactly." Remus nodded and smiled gravely. "My parents nursed me back to health after the Muggle doctor repaired the worst damage. They always kept it a secret, as did I."

"What...what would have happened if the Ministry had found out?"

"The worst case scenario would have been the Ministry declaring my parents incompetent of raising me. They could have put me in a Ministry-controlled orphanage or something similar. But in any case, I wouldn't have been able to go to Hogwarts."

"Damn," Harry sighed.

"Yes, indeed." Remus ran a hand over his face. "So my parents kept reminding me that I had to keep my condition a secret at all cost. I never forgot that lesson, and it was ultimately what drove a wedge between Patrick and me."

"How did you even meet him? Did you go looking for him?"

"Oh, no." Remus shook his head, and while he tried to smile Harry could see the tension on his face. "I met him by accident. After...that night your parents died, I made a habit out of not staying in one place too long."

"Why?" Harry interrupted. 

"I was worried that Sirius would betray my secret."

Harry gasped, surprised. He had never even considered that possibility.

"For all I knew, Sirius was a traitor and a murderer, Harry. I expected him to reveal my secret every day he spent in Azkaban. And thus I hid in the Muggle world, worked odd jobs here and there under a false name."

"What name?"

"John Smith, usually. I used the most common name imaginable so it would be difficult for anyone to trace my steps."

"Did anyone ever find you?"

"Only Dumbledore, when he wanted to offer me the Defence Against the Dark Arts position back in your third year. And I'm still not quite sure how he ever found me." Remus chuckled, as did Harry. Then Harry nodded at Remus to go on, curious about this part of Remus' life. He didn't think Remus had ever shared it with anyone, save for Sirius. 

"Some ten years ago I ended up in Dublin, looking for a job. I went to a pub and met a man who I suspected was a wizard. We chatted, and it turned out he owned a bookstore and could use a hired help."

"That was Patrick, right?"

"Yes, it was." Remus stayed quiet for a moment, staring off into the darkness around them. 

"What happened then?" Harry urged, worried Remus might not tell him more. 

"There was a strange attraction between us, one that neither of us could explain at the start. But we couldn't deny it, either, and after I had worked in his store for about two weeks we gave into that attraction. But the moment we got our shirts off, we knew what each of us was."

"Your scars," Harry whispered. 

Remus nodded. "Yes, we realized we were both werewolves. Of course, we didn't know about our blood connection at first. That wasn't until we decided to transform together that next full moon."

"Wow...that must have been a shock," Harry mused, enthralled by Remus' story. "What did you do?"

"It was quite a shock, yes, to see the werewolf that had infected me staring back at me. When the moon set, my first reaction was to leave him, of course. I went back to the small flat I still lived in. But Patrick looked me up the next day and we talked about it."

"Did you go back to him then?"

"Yes, after I gave it some thought, I decided to stay with him. You have to understand, Harry, that I had no one at that time. I had lost my friends...my pack...and I was lonely, even though I hated to admit it." Remus took a moment to inhale a deep, uneven breath. "And for a while, things were all right between us. It was good to be able to share this condition with someone else. I had never met another werewolf before."

"What went wrong, then?" Harry asked urgently. 

"I'm getting to that, Harry," Remus said, shaking his head fondly at Harry's impatience. "This isn't easy for me, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry."

"That's all right. Anyway, for a while things were quite good, but the longer I stayed with him, the more difficult it got for me to connect to him. I was...afraid to feel anything for him, I suppose. I used him to fill part of the loneliness inside me, but I was unable to return any feelings."

"Why were you scared?"

"Because, like I said, I had lost my pack and part of me thought it would be safer not to get a new pack. I might lose it again, and I wasn't sure if I could handle that kind of grief a second time. But another part of me recognized him as pack because of the bond we share. So I felt torn, mostly. And Patrick didn't really help matters by becoming more and more active in opposing the Ministry's Dark Creatures laws. I was scared constantly. Scared Patrick would, unintentionally, reveal my secret. Scared I would lose Patrick to Azkaban or the Ministry's executioner. And I was still scared Sirius might one day sell me out."

Harry lowered his gaze, taking in what Remus had said and wondering how he'd have felt if he'd been in a similar situation. "I think it makes sense," he whispered. "I think I'd have been scared too."

Remus smiled sadly. "Things just went downhill from there. I asked, begged, Patrick to keep a low profile, and in turn Patrick called me a coward. And sometimes, I think he was right."

"You're not a coward!" Harry objected, perking up in his chair. 

"Aren't I? Instead of following my heart, which told me Sirius could never have done those things, I fled like a beaten dog, leaving Sirius to rot in Azkaban, too scared to stand up for him."

Harry pursed his lips. He had no idea what to say to that. 

"I don't consider myself a very brave man, Harry. I know that of myself. I've done a lot of things in my life which I regret. Believing Sirius had betrayed your parents. Being too scared to return any of Patrick's feelings, even if it had only ended as a friendship. Not being strong enough to stop myself from infecting you. Not being able to accept myself for what I am."

"I don't hold it against you," Harry whispered, feeling oddly choked up. "I don't blame you for infecting me. It's my own fault."

"It's not your fault, Harry," Remus said. "Like I've told you before, it's not anyone's fault. Or perhaps we're all to blame for what happened, I don't know."

"How are we all to blame?"

"Perhaps you are to blame for doing those things you did with me...with Moony. You should have guessed that letting a werewolf fuck you might not be a good idea, Harry. And perhaps Sirius is to blame for leaving you alone with Moony. He should have realized there were risks involved with letting you play with a werewolf. And I'm to blame for stepping in front of an unknown hex in the first place, I suppose."

Harry watched Remus for a moment, contrasting emotions swirling through him, making him feel both hot and cold. Then he pushed himself up, crossed the short distance between them, and wrapped his arms around Remus' neck, half-sitting on Remus' lap. 

"You're not scared to return my feelings, are you?"

"Oh, no, don't worry. I have learned my lesson," Remus whispered, running a hand through Harry's hair. Harry could see affection in his gaze, the kind he always saw when Remus looked at Sirius, and it left a comforting, warm glow inside Harry.

"Good. Because you and Sirius are the most important things in my life," Harry confessed, slightly uneasy that he was talking about his feelings. He normally avoided talking about them, but this seemed like a moment for confessions and Harry did consider himself a brave young man. "I don't want to lose you. Either of you. You mean a lot to me."

"We feel the same way about you, Harry," Remus said, and pressed a soft kiss to Harry's lips. "Did I answer all your questions?"

"Not all of them, but this was a good start." Harry couldn't hold back a grin.

"The holidays are coming up. You'll have plenty of time to interrogate me further when you're home," Remus said with a teasing smile. 

"That's what I plan to do," Harry muttered, nuzzling Remus' cheek. "Among other things."

"Such as?" Remus drew back slightly, looking down at Harry over his nose. 

"Such as this," Harry said, sliding his leg across Remus, straddling him. 

"Harry, I do think it's too late for this. You should be getting back to Gryffindor Tower," Remus said, but Harry felt him hardening and he was determined to make good use of that. 

"We don't have to do much," he whispered, pressing open-mouthed kisses on Remus' cheek until he found Remus' mouth. "We can just...rub a bit."

"Rub?" Remus asked in between kisses. 

"Yeah." Harry reached for Remus' robes and opened a few strategic buttons. He slipped his hand inside and pulled Remus' erection free. Then he did the same to his own robes and released his hardening prick. "Just rubbing," he sighed, pressing his cock against Remus'. 

"Ah, yes, I suppose we could do that," Remus said, and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, pressing his hips up to meet Harry's shallow thrusts. 

Harry captured Remus' mouth in a deep kiss, exploring it with his tongue, and rubbed himself against Remus, moaning at the heated contact between their cocks. Their kiss grew wilder, as did their thrusts, and Harry buried his hands in Remus' hair, rocking his hips hard, letting the taste of Remus' mouth and the contact with Remus' prick push him towards his climax. 

"Fuck, Remus," he gasped, pulling back from their kiss to inhale a ragged breath. The chair creaked dangerously beneath their combined weight, and for a moment Harry thought it might splinter to pieces from their sharp thrusts, but he couldn't really care about that because he was so close and it felt so good to be this close to Remus, to feel Remus tense beneath him as his climax drew near. 

"Close," Harry breathed, burying his face in the crook of Remus' neck, uncaring that his glasses pressed into his face. "Fuck, so close, don't stop."

"God, Harry." Remus tightened his grip on Harry, pulling him even closer, his hands trailing down to cup Harry's arse. 

"Fuck, yes!" Harry's cry was muffled by Remus' skin and robes. He squeezed his eyes shut and came, his cock pulsing against Remus', spurting his release on Remus' hard flesh and their half-opened robes. 

Remus followed him a few thrusts later, releasing a shaky breath as he covered Harry's cock with his semen. Harry sagged against Remus, smiling against his throat. 

"Was nice," he mumbled. He didn't want to move. He just wanted to stay there, so close to Remus that he was surrounded by Remus' scent. He loved the feeling of Remus' sated prick touching his own spent cock. 

"That was very nice," Remus agreed, holding Harry, stroking his hair and his back. "But it is time to go, as much as I want to stay like this for a long time."

Harry pulled his face away from that brilliant spot between Remus' shoulder and neck and looked at him with a droopy smile. Remus grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him, slow and caring. 

"Get up, Harry," Remus said, and reluctantly, Harry pushed himself off Remus, staring down at the mess they'd made. Remus cleaned them both with a flick of his wand and they quietly tucked their softening cocks away. 

"Will I see you two tomorrow?" Harry asked, stifling a yawn behind his hand. 

"No, Saturday."

"All right." Harry stretched his arms above his head and looked at Remus for a moment. "You know, Patrick seemed like a decent bloke. Maybe if you talked to him, you could work things out with him."

Remus pursed his lips and frowned. "He is a decent man, I know that, Harry. There's just too much that has happened between us. We didn't part on the best of terms. Besides, it's best not to associate ourselves with him. It would put you at risk of exposure, and that's the last thing that I want."

"I suppose you're right," Harry said, not completely convinced by Remus' reasoning. He followed Remus out of the small tower room, thinking about all Remus had told him that night.

*~*~*~*~*

The next evening, Harry was still thinking about the things he'd heard from Remus and he stared distractedly into the fire of the common room, his Transfigurations textbook lying forgotten in his lap.

"Harry, you want to join in a round of Exploding Snap?" Ron asked.

"Hmm?" Harry looked up and shook his head. "No, thanks," he said and then added on impulse, "I'm going out later."

Ron gave him a knowing look, apparently assuming Harry would meet Sirius and Remus that evening. And Harry decided not to correct him in that assumption. 

Harry wasn't seeing Sirius and Remus that evening. Remus was away on Order business, which was why Harry hadn't been able to join his friends earlier that day in Hogsmeade. Not that he had minded much. The idea of having to stroll around Hogsmeade with those demonstrators still there wasn't a very pleasant one, so Harry hadn't objected when Dumbledore informed him he wasn't allowed into Hogsmeade without Remus. 

"I'm seeing Luna in a bit," Ron whispered, leaning over to Harry from his seat. Harry only smiled in response, wondering where he could go that evening. He didn't want to stay in the common room. Ever since he'd been outed, people hadn't stopped whispering about him, even though his closest friends seemed to have accepted that side of him. Still, Harry didn't want to spend an evening among whispering fourth and fifth years. 

After giving the issue some thought, Harry decided there was only one place he could go to have an interesting evening. He still had a few unanswered questions, and he was curious to hear Remus' story from a different point of view.

"I'll be back late. Don't wait up for me," he said to Ron, pushing himself up from his chair. 

"Have a good time, mate," Ron said. Neville and Ginny waved him goodbye from their cosy spot on the couch, and Hermione had her nose buried in a book and apparently didn't notice him leaving. 

Harry hurried up to their dormitory, grabbed his bag, his cloak and his broom, and with his Firebolt concealed under his invisibility cloak, Harry left Gryffindor Tower behind him. 

The flight to Hogsmeade was familiar by now, and Harry easily steered his broom through the December night. The sky was purplish grey and it looked as if it might start snowing. Harry enjoyed the cold wind and let it clear his mind as he flew into Hogsmeade. When he halted his broom in the alley near the Hog's Head, Harry noticed one of the small stores nearby was still open and it gave him an idea. Making sure he'd brought his money pouch, Harry strode to the store, his Firebolt tucked under his arm. 

Before he pushed the door open, he mussed up his hair to cover the scar on his forehead. No need for anyone to recognize him going into an obscure store at this time of the evening. 

"Evening, laddie, what can I get you?" asked the old wizard behind the counter of the small, dusty store filled with all kinds of groceries, from canned meat to bottled pumpkin juice. 

"Um...I need a bottle of whiskey and red wine. The good stuff."

"How old are you?" The wizard raised a suspicious eyebrow. 

"I'm eighteen," Harry lied and reached for his clinking money pouch. The wizard's face lit up and he turned to one of the shelves behind the counter. 

"I've got a fine bottle of Ogden's Single Malt right here. And a bottle of Bordeaux 1987. Good year that was."

"I'll take it," Harry said hurriedly. 

"That'll be nineteen Galleons."

Harry swallowed. That surely was more than he'd ever expected to be spending on liquor, but he had the money, so he decided to pay it without any complaints. "It's a gift," he said as he counted out the golden coins on the counter. The wizard took out his wand and waved it, whispering a spell that wrapped both bottles in shining red paper and attached a seasonal twig of holly around the bottlenecks.

"Perfect. Thank you," Harry said, grabbing the two bottles. 

"Thank you, laddie. Come again."

Clutching the bottles to his chest, Harry crossed the street to the Hog's Head. He hoped the gifts would show his gratitude for Patrick and Ivan letting him intrude on their lives the way he did. He pulled the hood of his cloak up before entering the Hog's Head, and he hurried through the pub and rushed up the small flight of stairs. 

Before he could knock on door number three, it swung open and Ivan -- dressed this time Harry noted with a small amount of disappointment -- grinned at him. 

"Just in time for the shag, puppy."

"Um...hi," Harry said, ignoring Ivan's invitation. He wasn't interested in a shag, even though Ivan and Patrick were attractive enough men, in their own partially undead way. "I brought something." Without looking at Ivan's face, Harry held out the wrapped bottles. 

"Who is it?" Patrick called from inside the room. 

"It's the puppy," Ivan said, accepting the bottles from Harry. "And he comes bearing gifts."

"Evening, lad," Patrick said as Harry followed Ivan into the room. 

Ivan pulled at the wrapping of one of the bottles, and as soon as the cap was revealed, he handed it to Patrick. "I think that's yours, love." 

Harry watched quietly, even a bit nervously, as both men unwrapped their gifts.

"Thanks, Harry." Patrick held the bottle of whiskey and looked at it with an appreciative curve of his eyebrows. "This is a fine bottle. You shouldn't have brought us anything, though."

"It's just an early Christmas gift or something," Harry mumbled, scuffing his shoe in the carpet. 

"A fine bottle indeed," Ivan said, eyeing the wine with a narrowed gaze. "Thanks ever so much, puppy. This calls for a toast."

"Let me," Patrick said, and reached for his wand, but Ivan held his bottle of wine out of Patrick's reach. 

"Get your hocus pocus away from my wine! It ruins the bouquet."

"It does not," Patrick said with an amused smile. 

"It does, too. Just because your taste buds are underdeveloped doesn't mean I don't taste it when someone's been messing with my wine." Ivan huffed and strode to the side table, reaching for an old-fashioned corkscrew. 

Patrick looked at Harry and rolled his eyes. Harry chuckled and sat down in one of the chairs when Patrick gestured for him to have a seat. Lowering his Firebolt and bag to the floor, Harry noticed a disorganized pile of drawings on the coffee table. They were charcoal sketches, mostly, and Harry recognized Ivan on many of them. 

"Did you do these?" he asked Patrick. 

"Aye. Not much else to do around here."

"They're nice," Harry said, carefully leafing through the sheets of parchment. 

"Of course they're nice," Ivan drawled, handing Harry a glass of wine. "I'm in them." He turned to Patrick. "Show him the one of me on the bed, love."

"Going straight for the porn, eh?" Patrick replied, but sorted through the pile of drawings anyway. He pulled one sketch out and rested it on top of the other drawings so Harry could see it. 

"It's called tastefully nude, and you, as an artist, should know that," Ivan countered, lowering himself in a chair. 

"If that's tastefully nude, love, than I'm Van Gogh."

Harry stared at the drawing and had to conclude that yes, it was definitely nude, but no, he didn't think it was particularly tasteful. Hot, yes. Tasteful, not so much. Ivan lay sprawled on the bed, one arm hooked above his head, his face screwed up in obvious pleasure, and his legs slightly spread while he stroked an impressive erection. 

"Did I ever tell you about the time Van Gogh painted me?" Ivan asked. Harry snapped his gaze up and stared at him. "Oh, yes, I met Van Gogh," Ivan continued. "Interesting mortal. Mad as a hatter and with a weird thing for sunflowers, but quite talented. He painted me, tastefully nude. Of course, it had sunflowers as well."

"Ivan, you're so full of it," Patrick said fondly. 

"I still have that painting, mind you. I'll show it to you sometime," Ivan shot back. 

"You have an authentic Van Gogh?" Harry asked in disbelief. 

"I sure do. Picasso as well. Plus a couple of paintings by Dali. And of course that sketch of the Mona Lisa Da Vinci did before he painted it." Ivan gave Harry a peculiar smile, both innocent and smug. Harry just stared at him, not sure if he should believe Ivan or not.

"Never mind him, lad," Patrick said. "Did you have a good moon?"

Harry looked away from Ivan and stared at Patrick. "Um...yeah, it was okay. I'd thought you might join us again, though."

"I didn't think I'd be welcome," Patrick replied with a regretful smile. "Plus, Ivan refused to chaperone me again and I don't go out alone when the moon is full."

"You might want to tell the puppy why I refused to baby sit you again, love."

Harry glanced at Ivan and something connected in his mind. "You," he said. "You were there that night. I smelled you." Harry wrinkled his nose. "You smelled like death."

Ivan sniffed. "No need to get all insulting, puppy. I hardly smell like death. Wait until you've smelled a corpse that's been rotting in the sun for a few weeks, then you'll know what death really smells like."

Snickering, Patrick waved Ivan's comments away. "Aye, Ivan was there, to keep me away from any innocent bystanders. But in order for the wolf to accept him, I had to...mark him."

"He pissed on me!" Ivan all but yelled, quite affronted. "Right before he transformed he whipped Pat junior out and bloody pissed on me."

"It was either that or the wolf tearing you to tiny pieces, Ivan," Patrick said, his expression teasing. Harry snorted with laughter and Ivan turned his face away, pointedly not looking at either of them. 

Harry sipped his wine, thinking about the things he wanted to ask, when Ivan suddenly snapped his gaze at him. 

"So, puppy, since one of your lovers spends his spare time as a dog, do you ever let him fuck you that way?"

Harry choked on his wine, heat rising to his cheeks. He was at a loss for words, coughing violently and staring at Ivan with wide eyes. 

"Oh, sweet Lord," Ivan said, his eyes gleaming in amusement. "You let him, didn't you? You let that mortal shag you as a dog! And here I thought I'd just tease you a bit. You naughty puppy, you."

"It's none of your business," Harry muttered when he was able to breathe again. 

"Is he any good?" Ivan asked, leaning forward in his chair curiously. "How does it feel to have a dog's cock up your arse?"

"Best shag I've ever had," Harry said, meeting Ivan's gaze, and he smirked. 

Ivan looked at Patrick. "I want that, love. Next full moon, you may piss on me all you like if you'll shag me as a wolf."

Burying his face in his hands, Patrick shook his head. "Don't be so dense, Ivan. You have no idea how you'd react to an infection. It could very well kill you."

"I'm asking for a shag, love. You don't have to rip my throat out in the process."

Patrick glanced up at Ivan. "A werewolf's saliva and semen are infectious. If I shagged you as a wolf, I'd infect you."

Harry felt more heat rising to his cheeks and he stared at both men, his breath catching in his throat. Ever so slowly, Ivan and Patrick turned their gazes on Harry and Harry thought he could see all the puzzle pieces falling into place in their minds. 

"A very naughty puppy, indeed," Ivan drawled. Patrick just stared, mouth opened slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn't think of the right words. 

"I have to go," Harry said, getting up. His face burned with embarrassment and he didn't dare look at them. 

"Harry, wait," Patrick said, pushing himself up and reaching for Harry's arm. "You're looking at a vampire and a werewolf here. We won't judge you for anything you've done. We've both done far worse in any case."

Swallowing, Harry glanced up at Patrick. "It was an accident," was all he managed to say. 

"I'm sure it was." Patrick pushed Harry back into his chair gently. "How did it happen?"

Harry took a deep breath and then gulped the last of his wine down. "I was attacked right here in Hogsmeade this summer. Remus stepped in front of a hex and he got stuck in his wolf form but he still had most of his human mind. Or so we thought. Anyway, he wasn't aggressive or anything, so we didn't lock him up.

"It started when Moony wanted to sleep in my room. But I was...um...having a wank and he kind of started licking."

"What an arousing thought," Ivan whispered, shifting in his chair and listening attentively. 

"Things just kind of progressed from there. We...um...licked each other a lot and one day Moony made it clear that he wanted to fuck me. And I didn't stop him, because I wanted it, too." Harry hung his head and worried his lip. 

"You were right, love," Ivan said matter-of-factly. "I've done far worse than that. I could tell you about the time I killed an entire family, seven children and their lovely mother, and strung their bodies up at the entrance gate of their mansion for the man of the house to find them the next morning, if that would make you feel any better, puppy."

"Ivan, shut it."

"I'm just trying to help."

Patrick ignored Ivan's insulted look and glanced at Harry. "That does explain a lot, lad. I always found it hard to believe Remus would be careless enough to bite a human."

"He didn't have control over that part of his mind at the time," Harry whispered. "He was pretty pissed off when we finally managed to change him back."

"That I can imagine," Patrick said, and gave Harry a warm smile. 

"I had a talk with Remus yesterday," Harry said, giving Patrick a searching look. "He told me a bit about you two and about how he got infected. I was just wondering..." Harry trailed off, unable to find the right words. 

"You're wondering why I ever allowed myself to almost kill a six-year-old boy?" Patrick offered, and Harry nodded. "To answer that, I should probably first tell you how I got infected."

"Oh, goodie, let's share our darkest secrets. This calls for more alcohol." Ivan grinned salaciously and got up to refill their glasses. 

"Right after we finished Hogwarts, HarrHarry-I went on a camping trip in Wales with a few mates and our lasses. While we were there, we heard a rumour about a werewolf being on the loose in those parts and we thought we were man enough to face that monster."

Harry held out his empty glass so Ivan could pour more wine into it, meanwhile staring at Patrick and listening carefully to everything he had to say. 

"So, the night of the full moon, we set out to find the beast," Patrick said, letting Ivan refill his tumbler with whiskey. He took a generous gulp of it before continuing. "But when the wolf found us, we stood no chance against it. It killed my two mates and tore my throat out."

Patrick paused, and Harry was tempted to urge him on with the story. But he figured that would be a show of bad manners and he should be grateful Patrick was willing to tell him the story in the first place. Still, Harry couldn't help shifting forward in his seat, balancing on the edge in anticipation of what was to come. 

"Nearby campers rushed me to St Mungo's. I was out for the better part of two weeks, and when I came to again a Ministry official was there to register me as a werewolf. And that's all he did. He wrote down everything there was to know about me and left."

"What did you do next?" Harry asked, unable to control his curiosity, when Patrick paused again.

"My girlfriend dumped me, my family renounced me, and my future employer sacked me before I ever worked a single day for them."

"Your family...they abandoned you?" Harry asked, shocked. 

"Aye. They're purebloods, and having a monster in the family wasn't something they appreciated. They gave me a nice sum of money and told me to leave and never come back."

"Where did you go?"

"I rented a small flat in Diagon Alley while I tried to find a job. Any kind of job. But since I was a registered werewolf, no one wanted me. And then the full moon rose and I knew nothing of what the expect, other than I'd best lock myself in. So I did. Put strong spells on my flat and transformed there, alone.

"The next day, a pair of Aurors knocked on my door. My neighbours had complained, since they knew I was a werewolf and they weren't happy about me transforming in my own house. The Aurors said it was a risk to public safety and from then on, I wasn't allowed to transform in my own flat anymore. They offered a few special holding cells in Azkaban I could use once a month, but I declined that very generous offer."

Harry felt angry on Patrick's behalf. "They can't forbid someone to transform in his own house. That's just stupid."

"It's also the law, lad. If they believe you pose a threat, they can forbid you to stay in your own house during the full moon."

"Where did you go then, the next full moon?"

"I figured that transforming near humans was a risk, so I apparated to Ireland. There's a lot of vast wilderness in Ireland where no one ever goes, so I thought that would be a safe solution. I was wrong, of course."

"Ireland...that's where Remus got infected," Harry whispered thoughtfully. 

"Aye. For a couple of years, nothing happened. There were a few close calls, when I woke up a lot closer to Muggle villages than I'd been when I transformed the previous evening. But I knew nothing about werewolves. No one had told me anything, and I had no idea that werewolves will actively look for humans during the night. I got some books on werewolves, but most only contained myths that weren't helpful at all."

"And then one night, something did happen, right?" Harry asked. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, even though he already knew the end of the story. 

Patrick nodded. "One night, I ran into a little boy looking at stars. That's all I remember, other than the taste of flesh and blood. When I woke up the next morning, I was covered in human blood. I left the wizarding world that same day. Just packed up my things and moved to Dublin on impulse."

"Didn't they ever find out it was you?"

"No. Remus' parents never reported the attack. Had they reported it, then they probably would have been able to track me down."

"So you stayed in Dublin?"

"It wasn't easy, since I knew next to nothing of the Muggle world. But I managed and I ran across a book store that was for sale. I bought it, even though I'd never been particularly interested in books, but I figured being self-employed was the easiest way to go for a werewolf."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I've been thinking about possible careers but there's nothing I can do that won't put me at risk of being exposed."

Patrick smiled gravely. "I know, lad. All the werewolves I know have moved to the Muggle world at one point or another."

"But I like our world," Harry said. "Well, mostly, anyway. Although I grew up in the Muggle world, so if I ever should have to go back it won't be much of a problem."

"You can always become a Mortal Guard," Ivan offered. When Harry looked at him with a frown, he continued, "Vampire colonies have Mortal Guards, to protect them during the daytime when vampires are at their weakest. They'll love to have a trustworthy magician as a Mortal Guard, and it pays exceptionally well. Of course, there are certain risks involved."

"I'll keep it in mind, thanks," Harry said, thinking that had to be the oddest job offer ever. 

"Just a thought, puppy," Ivan said with a lewd smile. 

"Or you can work the counter in my store," Patrick said, smirking at Ivan. "It won't pay as well as what the vampires would pay you, but there's also no risk of ending up with a pair of fangs in your throat."

"I resent that!" Ivan leaned forward, baring his fangs. "As long as I'm around, there's always the risk of ending up with a pair of fangs in your throat, thanks ever so much."

"Whatever you say, Ivan." Patrick's smirk grew wider. 

Ivan narrowed his eyes. "You carry the evidence on your throat, love."

"These things?" Patrick traced his fingers over the tiny pinprick scars on his throat. "Mere love bites, dearest."

"You let him bite you?" Harry blurted before Ivan could reply to Patrick's teasing. 

"Of course I bite him. I'm a vampire, in case you hadn't noticed," Ivan said and rolled his eyes. 

"When you shag an undead, you'll get bitten, lad."

"It heightens the pleasure, puppy. It feels good for Patrick and when I get to taste a mouthful of mortal blood right before I come, it gives me an orgasm powerful enough to knock me out good."

Harry stared at Ivan, open-mouthed.

"Want to try?" Ivan gestured encouragingly towards the bed. "I'm sure Patrick won't mind sharing his devilishly handsome and talented lover, will you, love?" 

"Ivan, shut it."

Despite Patrick's dismissal, Harry had to admit he was tempted, but only for a moment. Then he remembered Sirius and Remus and that he really only wanted to be shagging them, and he shook his head, giving Ivan a grateful yet apologetic smile. 

"Your loss." Ivan looked as if he wanted to stick his tongue out at Harry. 

"Is that all you ever talk about? Sex?" Harry wondered aloud, looking at Ivan curiously. 

"When you've been around for five centuries, you've seen all there is to see, and all that's left in the world to entertain you is a good shag, yes." Ivan sagged in his chair, letting his legs fall open and revealing an obvious bulge in his leather trousers. "The offer still stands, puppy. Just imagine five centuries of experience right here." Ivan trailed his hand over his crotch, licking his lips. 

Again, Harry was tempted, but his curiosity won out over his hesitant arousal. "How did you get infected, anyway?"

Ivan's expression changed instantly. It had been teasing and promising only moments before but it closed like a lock snapping shut, and Ivan stared at Harry with narrowed, darkening eyes. "You never ask a vampire that question, mortal," he snarled, and Harry could tell he was genuinely upset and not just being overly-dramatic.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled quickly. 

"But since you're you, I'll let you in on something," Ivan continued, his face still tight with tension. "An immortal piece of shite drained me to the point of death and then fed me his own cursed blood. That's how I became a vampire, and that's all you need to know."

Harry shrank back in his chair. He could tell there was obviously a lot more to Ivan's story, but he could also tell that pushing him for more information would be a huge mistake. 

"Ivan, the lad's just being curious," Patrick said mildly. Ivan managed a small smile and then busied himself with sipping his wine and studying his boots. 

Silence hung heavy between them. Harry took a few deep breaths and then turned to Patrick, figuring that talking to him was the safest thing to do. "How did you get involved with all the activist stuff? Remus told me a bit about it and said it was one of the reasons you two ended up fighting."

Patrick reached for his pack of cigarettes and took his time lighting one. "Funny thing is, Remus was the reason I got involved in it in the first place," he said, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. "I had never seen before how difficult it was for werewolves who weren't registered and wanted to keep their infection a secret. I resented the Ministry for their laws that restricted me, but after I met Remus, I started resenting them for forcing decent people into a life of secrecy, as well. And seeing someone I...cared about wasting away for fear of his secret coming out...that was enough to get me to join into actively opposing the Ministry's laws."

"Do you think those laws will ever be changed?" Harry asked quietly. 

"I don't know, lad. At the moment, we don't have enough people to form a strong front. There's a werewolf network, since most werewolves know at least a few other werewolves and thus it all connects us, but most of them hide out in the Muggle world and they're no good to us if they're too scared to stand up for themselves and for their kin."

Harry pursed his lips and shook his head. "I want to help out but I also don't want my secret to come out. If it does..."

"I know, lad. If your secret comes out, it will endanger Remus. A lot of werewolves have similar problems and are hesitant to step forward."

"I'm sorry," Harry offered. 

"Don't be. The safety of your pack always comes first." Patrick gave him a reassuring smile. Harry returned it and they stayed quiet for a moment, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable as it had been before. 

"Here, I've got something for you, if you want it." Patrick stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray and started looking through the pile of drawings. He pulled one sheet out and handed it to Harry. 

"Oh, wow. This is beautiful," Harry said, staring at a sketch of Moony, Padfoot and Blue surrounded by trees with the full moon shining down on them. Moony looked watchful, Blue gazed up at Moony respectfully and Padfoot was sniffing the ground. 

"It's yours, then. Consider it my early Christmas gift."

Ivan snorted, reached for the table and handed Harry his tastefully nude sketch. "There. That'll give you something interesting to remember me by."

Harry accepted the sketch shyly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Thanks. And I'm really sorry for insulting you."

Ivan waved his comment away. "You hardly insulted me, puppy. If you'd insulted a Master Vampire, you would've been dead in seconds."

"I'd best go. It's getting late." Harry rolled the sketches up with care and placed them in his bag. When he got up, Ivan did as well and stepped up to him. Before Harry could stop him, cold lips brushed a cool kiss across his mouth and Harry froze to the spot. 

"Thanks for the gift, puppy," Ivan whispered, letting his fingers trail down Harry's throat. "A Master Vampire never forgets an act of kindness." 

"And neither does a middle-aged shopkeeper from Dublin," Patrick said, amused. He put his hand on the back of Harry's neck, giving it an affectionate stroke, and it had the most peculiar effect on Harry. It calmed him and made him feel safe, at home. Vaguely, he realized this was something Remus also did a lot, stroking the back of his neck. He gave both Ivan and Patrick a grateful smile and picked up his broom and his bag. 

"I won't be able to stop by for a while, since the Christmas holidays start next week," he said, shouldering his bag. "But after I get back, I can visit again. If you want me to, that is."

"You're always welcome here, lad," Patrick said. 

Ivan slung an arm around Patrick's shoulder, leaning against him. "And the offer will always stand, puppy."

Harry rolled his eyes, which earned him a snort of laughter from Patrick, waved goodbye and left the room. As he flew back to Hogwarts, Harry thought perhaps he'd made two new friends. Too bad his lovers wouldn't be happy about that if they ever found out. But Harry decided that wasn't worth worrying about just yet.


	12. Chapter 11

The train ride to King's Cross was uneventful. In fact, the whole week before the Christmas holidays had been uneventful. Harry stared out the window so he wouldn't have to look at Ron trying to see how far he could stick his tongue down Luna's throat.

The only remotely interesting thing that had happened the previous week was Snape refusing to teach Harry Legilimency again and Harry having to endure a short speech by Dumbledore on the responsibility of knowing such powerful magic. But in the end Dumbledore had agreed to take over Harry's private lessons completely, and Harry had been quite relieved that he wouldn't have to work with Snape again. 

As the Hogwarts Express moved through the British countryside, Harry let his thoughts wander to the upcoming holidays. He was feeling beyond happy about going home again. 

Home. 

A real home with two real men who wanted him and cared about him. A place where Harry wouldn't have to worry about keeping his secret or listen to people whispering he was shirt-lifter or see Malfoy making obscene gestures at him across the Great Hall. What lay before him were a few carefree weeks in which Harry could just be himself, and he couldn't wait to cross the threshold of twelve Grimmauld Place and fall into Sirius' and Remus' arms like he belonged there. 

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked, apparently having come up for air. 

"Yeah," Harry said. Beside him, Neville and Ginny sat snuggled together and opposite him, Hermione had her nose buried in a book. She'd been very distant ever since his friends had walked in on him and his lovers. But when Harry had voiced his concern to Ron, all Ron had said was, "What do you expect? You broke her heart!" Which had only made Harry more uncomfortable about the whole situation. So he just ignored her, like she ignored him most of the time. 

"We're almost there," Ginny said, and they all pushed themselves up to collect their bags and trunks so they could get off the train as soon as possible. The train came to a creaky halt, steam rising up outside the window, and Harry followed his friends out quietly. 

Harry saw Remus as soon as he stepped on the platform, and he had to restrain himself because all he wanted to do was fling his arms around Remus' neck and devour his mouth, much like Ron had been doing to Luna the entire train ride. It was a bit odd perhaps, since Harry had last seen Remus only two days before, but this was different. He was coming home now. 

"Hey, Harry," Remus said, giving Harry a warm smile. "How was your journey?"

"Hey. Was okay. Are we walking?"

Remus took Harry's trunk from him and shrunk it with a flick of his wand. "I suggest we apparate. Are you feeling up to that?"

"Of course," Harry said. He was brimming with excitement, and he felt as if he could apparate to China and back without splinching himself. 

"All right. Apparate to the front door, please. The spells on the house might still pose too large an obstacle for you."

Harry shrugged Remus' worries off and concentrated on that spot right outside the house, clutching his bag to his chest. 

"Ready?" Remus asked. Harry nodded, closed his eyes, and gave his body the silent command to apparate. He felt the world dissolve around him, and when he opened his eyes again he was looking at the front door of his home. A loud crack announced Remus' arrival, and after Harry briefly checked himself over to make sure all his parts were there, Remus opened the door with a tap of his wand. 

Harry bounced inside and was immediately tackled into the drawing room where a heavy weight pinned him to the couch. 

"Hey," Sirius said, grinning down at him. 

"Hi," Harry said, running one hand through Sirius' long hair. 

"Had a good trip?"

"Yeah."

"Want to shag?"

"Fuck, yeah."

"Moony! Harry wants to shag!"

"No need to yell. I'm right here," Remus said, amused, leaning against the doorway. 

Sirius looked at him over his shoulder. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get naked. We only have two weeks."

Snorting with laughter, Harry pulled Sirius' head down and caught his lips in a searing kiss. "Missed you," he whispered against Sirius' mouth. Then he looked around the room. "Missed this," he added. 

"Good to have you home, Harry," Sirius said, making room so Remus could sit down on the edge of the couch. They looked at each other for a moment, Harry mindlessly running a hand through Sirius's hair, his other hand resting on Remus' thigh. Remus smiled down at him, stroking Sirius' back and Harry's cheek. Harry felt completely and utterly at home and grinned so wide it hurt while he fought the urge to rub himself against both Sirius and Remus like a contented cat. 

"What do you want to do in the coming weeks, Harry?" Remus asked. 

"Shag our knickers off," Sirius suggested hopefully, and Harry nodded his head. 

"Besides the obvious, Padfoot."

"I still have to buy a few Christmas presents," Harry said. "I haven't had a chance to do that in Hogsmeade."

"I'll arrange for a trip to Diagon Alley this week," Remus said. Harry tried not to notice Sirius' slightly disappointed look, but he could understand his godfather's feelings. It had to be hard not being able to go anywhere for risk of being locked up again or worse. 

"And I have to practice Legilimency."

"You have two willing victims right here," Sirius said. "You may penetrate me at any time." Narrowing his eyes, Sirius leaned down, kissed his way from Harry's mouth to his throat, and then bit down teasingly. Harry laughed but it transformed into a moan when Sirius rubbed his body against Harry's. 

"I'd like to remind you that we have dinner guests," Remus said. Sirius groaned and pulled away, glaring at Remus. 

"We have? Who?" Harry wondered, pushing himself up in a sitting position after Sirius released him. 

"Tonks. She's coming to officially introduce her boyfriend," Remus said. 

"She has a boyfriend?"

"Yes. Someone from the Order, apparently."

"And if it's Moody I won't keep my mouth shut, just so you know." Sirius crossed his arms over his chest, giving Remus a defiant look.

"I really don't think it's Moody. At least, I hope it's not," Remus said, grinning. Harry looked at them, horrified at the thought of Tonks doing anything intimate with Moody. Nodding, Sirius gave Harry a knowing look.

"Oh, come on you two," Remus chided mildly. "True love isn't ruled by age or gender or minor personality disorders." Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "And think of it this way," Remus added. "It could be worse than Moody. It could be Snape."

"If she dares to so much as touch Snape, I'm getting Andromeda on the fire at once and I'll let them both know how exactly I feel about that," Sirius snarled. Harry glanced at Remus and they both burst out in laughter, which earned them a scowl from Sirius.

"Padfoot, breathe. I don't think it will be Snape. He's queer in any case."

"Snape's a poofter?" Sirius blurted as Harry stared at Remus open-mouthed. 

"Obviously. I'm surprised you never noticed before."

"Did you know?" Sirius asked Harry, who shook his head in response. "See, it's not that obvious at all."

Before Remus could respond, the doorbell rang, and he got up, straightened his robes and disappeared into the hallway. Harry and Sirius stayed put, sharing a suspicious look. 

"Tonks, Kingsley, come in," Remus called from the hallway. 

'Kingsley?' Sirius and Harry mouthed at each other, surprised. They grinned and got up as well to welcome their guests. 

Tonks beamed at them, clutching Kingsley's hand in her own, and Kingsley looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else at that moment. 

"Kingsley!" Sirius shook Kingsley's hand roughly. "Of course, Kingsley!"

Frowning, Tonks glanced at Remus. 

"He thought it might be Moody or Snape," Remus said helpfully. 

"I did not!" Sirius countered but that didn't stop Tonks from rolling her eyes and Kingsley from giving a loud snort.

"He even threatened to call your mother." Remus ducked out of Sirius' reach to avoid being punched in the arm. 

"Sirius!" Tonks scolded, but accepted an apologetic kiss on the cheek from Sirius anyway. 

"So. Kingsley," Remus said, raising a curious eyebrow. 

"Yeah," Tonks said with a big smile. "We got together a few months ago, but honestly, we didn't think it would work out. But it did, and now we're making it official."

"She insists on introducing me to people I already know," Kingsley said, and smiled at Tonks to soften his words. 

"Well, I'm happy for you both," Remus said, and gestured towards the small flight of stairs. "Shall we have a drink in the kitchen?"

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said while Remus led Sirius and Kingsley down the stairs. "What do you think?"

"About what?" Harry asked, confused. 

"About Kingsley, of course."

"Oh." Harry frowned, glancing at Kingsley's retreating back. "He's very fit, isn't he? Looks handsome enough."

Tonks' eyes widened before she narrowed them and a mischievous grin crept around her mouth. "Harry Potter, are you gay?"

"Um." Harry's mind snapped shut on instinct but he couldn't help a blush from heating his cheeks. There was really no point in denying it, since his whole bloody school knew, but Harry still had the urge to shake his head. Instead, he nodded once. 

"That's wonderful," Tonks said, which confused Harry even more, since he had no idea why it was wonderful. "I've always had my suspicions," Tonks whispered, and Harry managed a weak smile. "Come on, I could use a drink."

They entered the kitchen to find Sirius and Kingsley sitting at the table, drinking a beer, and Remus standing near the counter where he opened a bottle of wine with a flick of his wand. 

"Harry's gay!" Tonks blurted. Sirius choked on his beer, Remus almost dropped his bottle of wine, and Kingsley turned in his seat to give Harry a searching look.

"He takes after his godfather, then," Kingsley said, and that seemed to be the end of it for him as he shifted in his seat and sipped his glass.

Sirius, who had just recovered from a violent coughing fit, glared at Kingsley. "I'm hardly queer, mate."

"Please." Kingsley rolled his eyes. "You're straight, right. That's why you're shagging Remus."

"Shagging a bloke doesn't mean I don't appreciate the birds, too," Sirius countered. 

Tonks lowered herself in a chair beside Kingsley, almost knocking his glass over in the process. "Who are you kidding, Sirius? Mum always says you are gayer than two Shooting Stars in a broom closet." 

Trying not to snicker, Harry sat down beside Sirius and ignored Sirius' desperate look at Remus in fear of bursting out in laughter.

"Actually, I would like to know why you insist on not being gay," Remus said to Sirius, who growled and then frowned thoughtfully. 

"The bike!" Sirius all but yelled, slamming his glass down on the table, beer sloshing over the rim. "Would a poofter have a bike like that, eh?"

"One word," Tonks said. "Leather."

"Very gay," Kingsley agreed with a smug grin. 

"Ha!" Sirius leaned forward in his chair, narrowing his eyes at Tonks and Kingsley. "Back in 1980, I was seeing Mathilda Valbert."

"You shagged my cousin?" Kingsley growled, and Sirius shrank back in his chair. 

"Hey, that was a long time ago and she was a wonderful lady. It just didn't work out."

"How long were you seeing her?" Remus asked. "About three weeks, as I remember it."

Sirius sighed. "All right. I only saw her for about three weeks, yes, Moony, thank you for not being helpful here. My point is that I was seeing a bird."

"Why are you so worried about being gay?" Harry asked, confused. "You spent all summer telling me it was perfectly fine to like men."

"And it is perfectly fine to like men, Harry," Sirius said quickly.

"Then why do you insist you like women as well?" Remus asked, leaning his hands on the back of a chair, looking down at Sirius curiously. "You've hardly dated any women, and it has never worked out."

Sirius threw his hands up in the air. "I had a few girls in school. And afterwards there was...well, there was Mathilda, for three weeks. And...um... "

"And the rest were men," Remus concluded for Sirius. 

"Oh, fine!" Sirius snapped. "So it didn't work out with Mathilda because while I was shagging her, and yes, I shagged your cousin, Shacklebolt, all I could think about was that she was a nice enough person but that she lacked a cock!"

Harry burst out in laughter, followed by Tonks who had a fit of giggles. 

"There, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" Remus said with a smile and pressed a kiss on top of Sirius' head. "You're gay and personally, I'm quite happy that you are."

Sirius scowled, gulped the last of his beer down and then gestured for Remus to refill his glass.

"I can't believe you shagged my cousin," Kingsley said. "You're lucky it was a long time ago, Black."

Sirius rolled his eyes but returned the smile Kingsley gave him. "And I can't believe you're shagging my cousin, Shacklebolt." 

"I'll drink to that." Kingsley raised his glass and took a generous gulp. Remus returned to the table with beer for Sirius and wine for Tonks and himself. 

"What would you like to drink, Harry? Butterbeer? Pumpkin juice?"

"Can I have some wine?" Harry asked. 

"Since when do you drink wine?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"I don't," Harry said with an innocent smile. "I just thought I'd try some."

Shrugging, Sirius nodded at Remus, who levitated a glass from the cupboard and poured Harry his wine. Then he sat down on Sirius' other side and smiled at their guests. 

"Harry and I are planning a trip to Diagon Alley sometime next week. Any chance we could get an armed escort?"

"No problem. We'll make a day out of it," Tonks said. "We can check out the male wizarding population and see if we can find Harry a decent bloke."

"No, thanks," Harry said, inwardly groaning. He really did not need another match-maker in his life. His experience with Ron was enough to last him a lifetime.

"Oh, come on, Harry," Sirius said with a teasing grin, nudging Harry with his elbow. "Don't you want to find a handsome boy to fool around with?"

Harry kicked Sirius' shin under the table and then innocently sipped his wine when Sirius threw him a dirty look. It tasted nice enough. A bit dryer than what Ivan had served him, but Harry decided he liked it. 

"Arthur told me you're thinking about becoming an Auror," Kingsley said, looking at Harry. 

"Really?" Tonks piped. "That's brilliant, Harry. You'd make a great Auror, I'm sure."

Harry held back a tired sigh. "I was thinking about it. But there are still plenty of other jobs I'm also looking into."

Kingsley nodded. "It's always a good idea to keep your options open."

"Anyone hungry yet?" Remus asked, and Harry recognized his attempt at changing the subject. He gave Remus a grateful smile and nodded. 

"I'm starving," Sirius said and pushed himself up to look at their supper simmering on the stove.

*~*~*~*~*

Dinner was a pleasant event, with good food, enjoyable conversation and plenty of wine. By the time Tonks and Kingsley were ready to leave, Harry had finished his third glass and was feeling warm and drowsy. Remus saw Tonks and Kingsley to the door while Sirius cleared the table and directed all the dirty dishes to the sink with a flick of his wand.

"I think we got him drunk, Moony," Sirius said when Remus re-entered the kitchen. 

"He can't get drunk. His metabolism is too fast for that," Remus said, and then tilted his head, giving Harry a searching look. "He does look drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Harry slurred. "I'm okay. I feel...good." He pushed himself up from his chair, but his legs refused to cooperate and he fell against Sirius, who caught him with a huff. 

"Do you want to feel even better?" Sirius asked, lowering his hands from Harry's waist to his arse, squeezing it meaningfully. 

"Yeah," Harry said, grinning, his head lolling back. 

Remus grabbed Harry's chin and looked him deep in the eyes, making Harry blink to try to focus on Remus' blurry face. "I suggest we save the fun until tomorrow," Remus said to Sirius, who let out a disappointed sigh but nodded his agreement.

"Can you take him upstairs and get him washed up a bit? I'll clean this up." Sirius nodded towards the dirty dishes and handed Harry over to Remus, who wrapped a firm arm around Harry's shoulders and led him out of the kitchen. 

"I'm really not drunk," Harry said. He wasn't drunk, he was sure of it. He still knew what he was doing. He just felt good. Happy. Not a care in the world. 

"I know," Remus said, smiling as he dragged Harry up the stairs. "But you are a bit tipsy."

Harry shrugged, stumbled over his own feet and held onto Remus as they climbed the stairs to the first floor. Remus led him to the bathroom where Harry proceeded to battle the zipper of his jeans, which put up a good fight until Remus stepped in and lowered it for him. Harry managed to pull off his jumper and T-shirt by himself and then almost fell over when he wanted to shove his boxers down. Remus caught him and pushed him up against the sink while he helped Harry out of the offending piece of underclothing. 

Giggling, Harry watched with interest as Remus undressed and couldn't resist pinching Remus' naked arse.

"Stop that," Remus said, batting Harry's hand away, which sent Harry into another fit of giggles. Remus turned to him, which exposed a whole different part of his naked body and ignoring Remus' warning look, Harry reached for Remus' flaccid prick and gave it a soft pull. 

"I warned you," Remus growled, but his eyes gleamed with building arousal. He grabbed the back of Harry's neck and pushed him up against the sink. Immediately, Harry felt himself go slack in Remus' grip. He stared up at Remus, mouth opened slightly, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from Remus' mouth, which he wanted to kiss desperately.

"Why is that?" Harry whispered, licking his lips. "Why do I respond like this when you grab my neck?"

Remus quirked an eyebrow and loosened his grip on Harry's neck, stroking it softly. "It's dominance, I suppose," he whispered, lowering his head and pressing a kiss to Harry's lips. "It's wolf talk for making sure who's boss."

"You're the boss," Harry said solemnly. 

"And don't you forget it." Remus' grin was feral and it sent sharp sparks of arousal straight to Harry's cock. But before Harry could return Remus' kiss or rub his hardening prick against Remus' hip, Remus pulled back. 

"Wash up, before Sirius complains we started without him."

Harry sighed, nodded and turned to the sink. He splashed a few handfuls of cold water in his face and then reached for his toothbrush. They brushed their teeth in companionable silence and then made their way to their bedroom as Harry's stomach knotted up in arousal and anticipation. 

Sirius was unloading Harry's trunk, putting his robes in the wardrobe and piling his books on the small desk, beside some of Remus' collection. Harry returned Sirius' smile and watched Sirius while Remus lowered himself to the sheets and hooked his arms under his head, regarding them both. 

And then Sirius reached for a scroll of parchment at the bottom of Harry's trunk, and Harry's mind snapped back to attention at once. His body went rigid, and the knot in his stomach had little to do with arousal anymore. 

"What's this?" Sirius unrolled the parchment and frowned. "Did you do this?" he asked, looking at Harry curiously. 

"Um..." Harry's mind was blank, and all he could do was shake his head. 

"Then...." Sirius' frown deepened as he looked at the parchment again. "Who did you tell about us, Harry?"

"Let me see that," Remus said, sitting up on the bed. Sirius held out the drawing and Remus' expression tightened. "Patrick," was all he said. 

Harry was silently wishing for a hole in the ground to disappear into, and he flinched when Sirius glared at him. 

"Where did you get this?"

"Um..." Harry briefly closed his eyes. "Look, it was a present," he muttered, and then thought of something sensible to say. "Patrick sent it to me when he returned my Firebolt. I thought it was a nice picture, so I kept it."

Sirius' look was sceptical, to say the least. "I suppose it's nice enough," he said, and lowered the drawing to the desk. Harry's heart skipped a beat, however, when Sirius reached inside his trunk again, fished out the other roll of parchment and opened it. 

"And I suppose he sent you this as well?" Sirius thrust the drawing in Harry's face. Harry heard Remus get up from the bed and step up to them. The silence that followed made Harry shiver and he resisted the odd urge to cover up his privates, suddenly very aware he was naked. 

"Don't bloody lie to me, Harry. He never sent that broom back, did he? You went back for it, didn't you?" Sirius yelled, his face only an inch away from Harry's. 

"No, I didn't go back for it," Harry whispered, looking anywhere but at Sirius' eyes while he heard Remus' deep breathing behind him. "Ivan brought it back that same night after I left the Shack. And...um...I took him for a short flight on it."

"Harry!" Sirius kicked against the wardrobe. 

"You went back to them, didn't you?" Remus asked quietly. 

Harry nodded. "The week after that, when we had that...disagreement in the Shack. I just wanted some answers." He looked at Remus over his shoulder. "And you weren't giving me any. I'm sorry."

"How often have you visited them?" Sirius asked, his voice a threatening growl. 

"Only twice," Harry replied quickly. "Well, twice after that first evening when you came to get me. And they've done nothing wrong, really. We just talked, that's all."

"You just talked?" Sirius thrust the drawing in Harry's face again. "That's why that stiff is giving you naked pictures of himself wanking, because you just bloody talked, is that it?"

"Sirius, please, calm down," Remus said. Sirius shot a defiant look at Remus over Harry's shoulder, but took a step back anyway. 

"Well, when Patrick gave me the picture of us three, Ivan insisted I take that picture as well. He's a bit...arrogant. And he likes to talk about sex a lot. But that's all that happened, I swear. We talked."

"I know Patrick well enough," Remus said. "If he's with that vampire, he won't have touched Harry. He's....loyal that way."

"Oh, so you trust him, but you don't trust me on my word?" Harry asked, spinning on his feet to glare at Remus. 

"How can we trust you?" Sirius grabbed Harry's shoulder and turned him around again roughly. "We told you not to go there, and you just ignore us."

"What choice did I have?" Harry yelled back. "You wouldn't tell me a fucking thing about what I really am."

"Keep quiet, both of you," Remus snapped. He took a deep breath and lowered himself to the bed, shoulders slumped. "I understand you wanted answers, Harry, and in that respect I can only blame myself for not giving them to you sooner."

"You still shouldn't have gone there," Sirius said, crossing his arms. "The risks are too big, Harry."

"I know the risks," Harry said, relaxing a bit now that both Sirius and Remus seemed disappointed rather than angry. "I was very careful that no one saw me."

"Still, if that bastard wants to make trouble, he – "

"He won't," Remus interrupted Sirius. "Patrick won't betray Harry on purpose, I'm sure of that. But Sirius is right about the risks, Harry."

"I know. I just wanted to talk to someone. I have no one to talk to about my condition, except you, and it was nice to hear things from someone not involved with me."

"But I don't trust that bloody vampire one bit," Sirius said, ignoring Harry. He glanced at the drawing again. "Besides, look at him. I bet McKinley gave him a big cock in this picture to compensate for the tiny prick he has for real."

"Um...actually, he is that big for real," Harry muttered, and he felt his cheeks flush when Sirius snapped his gaze at him. "He was naked one time when he opened the door. I couldn't help noticing. But he got dressed after that."

Sirius snorted. "You want to keep this picture?"

"It was a gift," Harry said. "And it's a nice drawing. So, yeah."

"Fine." Sirius threw the picture onto the desk and then rubbed his face tiredly. 

"Harry, come here, please." Remus patted the spot beside him on the bed and Harry sat down, giving Remus a small smile. "I understand your need for answers and that you enjoyed talking about your condition with someone, but you have to understand that the risks are just too big."

"I suppose," Harry said, ignoring the pang of disappointment in his stomach. 

"Please don't sneak out to see them again," Remus said. He stroked Harry's cheek, staring into Harry's eyes. "Promise me you won't go see them again."

Harry hesitated, lowering his gaze. He didn't want to promise that. 

"Harry, promise him already!" Sirius snapped. 

"All right. I promise." Harry gave Remus a solemn look, but couldn't help thinking that perhaps when he returned to school he could write to Patrick instead. Writing wasn't the same as visiting, after all. 

"Thank you," Remus whispered and gave Harry a kiss. Harry grabbed Remus' shoulder and when Remus wanted to draw back, Harry followed him and pressed his lips to Remus', sneaking his tongue into Remus' mouth. 

"I see you're feeling better," Sirius said, amused. Harry moaned affirmatively, letting his eyes fall shut and burying a hand in Remus' hair while he explored Remus' mouth and teased his tongue. 

"And I see you're...up...to something," Remus said, a bit breathlessly, glancing down at Harry's lap where Harry's cock was rising to attention. 

"Yeah, I'm definitely up," Harry whispered, and pushed Remus back against the bed, lying half on top of him and pressing his hardening prick against Remus' thigh. He heard fabric rustling behind him and soon enough he felt Sirius' naked body against his back. 

"What are you up to?" Sirius whispered into Harry's ear. "You want to shag? Suck? Wank?"

Harry rolled onto his back, staring up at Sirius. "Hmm. I dunno. I just want to get off any which way I can."

"That's my boy," Sirius said proudly. 

"I don't think Harry deserves a shag," Remus said, propping himself up on an elbow. "I think perhaps Harry can only watch tonight."

Harry's eyes widened. While the last time Remus had given him that order had ended in mind-blowing sex, it had also been frustrating as hell.

"I think tonight we're all going to have a quiet wank." Remus pushed himself up and sat back against the headboard, gesturing Sirius over. "Harry can give us a nice show while we give each other a hand."

Sirius sat down beside Remus, and Harry realized what they expected of him when Sirius threw him a couple of pillows. This wasn't too bad. He liked touching himself while his lovers watched. 

Settling against the footboard, the pillows soft against his back, Harry watched as Sirius and Remus reached for each other's cocks, fisting slowly. 

"Maybe we should make this a bit more interesting," Sirius suggested. He reached for the bedside table, grabbed his wand and the tube of lubricant and threw both at Harry. "Fuck yourself."

Harry's mouth fell open and he stared at Sirius. "Um..." he managed to say, glancing down at the wand. "With that?"

"Oh yes," Remus agreed, biting down on Sirius' shoulder teasingly. "Let us see you fuck yourself with Sirius' wand."

"Oh god," Harry moaned. The idea of doing that sent a heavy surge of arousal through him, strong enough to make his toes curl. 

"Pull your knees up," Sirius ordered. "I want to see exactly what you're doing."

With trembling hands, Harry reached for the lube and squeezed some on his palm. Then he grabbed Sirius' wand and slicked the thin shaft with a few shaky strokes. Looking at his lovers, Harry lay back against the pillows and pulled his knees up, lowering Sirius' wand between his spread thighs. 

"Fuck," Sirius gasped when Harry, after probing his entrance carefully, slid the first inch of slick wood inside. Harry stared at them, noticing that their strokes sped up as he drove more of the wand inside him. And then he brushed across his prostate and he groaned, reaching for his cock with his free hand. 

"You look incredible," Sirius whispered. "Bloody amazing."

Harry pursed his lips and moved Sirius' wand in and out of him, aiming for his prostate with every slow thrust while he fisted his cock harder and harder. He kept his eyes open, looking at Sirius and Remus lying close, stroking each other's cocks and kneading each other's sacs. The combination of seeing Sirius and Remus bringing each other off and feeling his hand around his cock and Sirius' wand stroking across his prostate was more than enough to drive Harry towards the edge at high speed. 

"You can come, Harry," Remus said. Harry nodded, too caught up in his own pleasure to talk, and he resisted giving in immediately. He slowed his thrusts and his strokes, trying to balance on that tingling edge as long as he could, watching how Sirius and Remus found each other's mouths and kissed hard and deep, their fingers tightening around their twitching pricks. They stared back at him and Harry couldn't hold back anymore. With a gasp, he came, pulling on his cock hard and driving Sirius' wand inside him as deep as he could. 

"Fuck, that's it, Harry," Sirius moaned. Harry forced his eyes to stay open while he climaxed over his hand and onto his belly, strings of white come warm on his skin. Stroking the last of his orgasm out of him, Harry sagged back against the pillows, Sirius' wand still buried deep inside him and his legs still spread. He saw Remus' nose wrinkle and his lips twitch and with a soft inhale of breath, Remus came and spurted his release over Sirius' fingers. Sirius caught his lips in a kiss and bucked his hips up against Remus' hand, needing a few strokes more before he climaxed. 

Heavy breaths filled the room and Harry gave his lovers a sleepy grin. Sirius returned it and pulled away from Remus, crawling towards Harry. He curled his fingers around the handle of his wand and slid it out of Harry before pushing it back inside. Harry moaned and rubbed himself contentedly against the sheets, letting Sirius play with him. 

"Next time, I want to see you fuck yourself with both our wands," Sirius whispered, and leaned down to kiss Harry. Smiling, Harry nodded eagerly and sighed when Sirius pulled his wand out, wiping it clean on the sheets.

"Come here," Remus said, waving Harry over. Harry scooted over to him, dragging the pillows along. Sirius joined them, put Harry's glasses on the nightstand, and they nestled themselves comfortably under the sheets, curled around each other. 

"That was...very nice," Harry whispered. 

"It was also quite nice to watch," Remus agreed. 

"I can't believe I haven't thought of that before," Harry said, glancing between his lovers. "To do that...with my wand."

"I guess we now know what you'll be doing at Hogwarts during those lonely nights," Sirius said with a teasing grin. Harry couldn't keep a blush from creeping onto his cheeks. 

"Don't mind him, Harry." Remus pressed a kiss to Harry's throat. "He used to play with his wand all the time back when we were in school."

"And with your wand," Sirius added. Harry gave him a wide-eyed looked. "How do you think I figured out I like to take it up the arse?" Sirius shrugged. "I overheard someone talk about doing that and decided to give it a try myself."

Remus shook his head fondly. "Imagine my surprise one beautiful morning when I shoved his curtains back and saw him playing with his wand."

Harry chuckled and he could see Sirius was trying not to laugh.

"Of course, I gave him a lecture on the safety of wand use and then tried it myself that evening before going to sleep."

"Moony, you sly wolf!"

Remus gave them both his best innocent look. "I was just making sure my best friend wasn't doing something dangerous. As it turned out, it wasn't dangerous in the slightest, but it did give me amazing orgasms."

"How old were you then?" Harry asked. 

"Thirteen?" Remus asked, and Sirius nodded. 

"About thirteen, yeah. We'd discovered wanking the previous year, I think."

Harry smiled and imagined Sirius and Remus as teenagers, which made him smile even wider. He turned on his side, facing Remus and rested his cheek on Remus' shoulder. He felt Sirius move closer to him, pressing against his back while an arm wrapped around his waist. 

"Harry?" Sirius asked, oddly quiet. 

"Yeah?"

"No one is giving you any trouble in school for being queer, are they?"

"No, not really," Harry said. He glanced at Sirius over his shoulder, confused why Sirius decided to suddenly bring that up. "People whisper a lot, but besides Malfoy, no one really brings it up around me. Why do you ask?" 

"Because of what I said in the kitchen," Sirius said, tightening his arm around Harry. "It really is fine to like blokes. I just wanted to make sure you know that."

"I know." Harry frowned, remembering the argument about Sirius' sexuality earlier. "But why were you so keen on not being gay?"

"It's a complicated story," Sirius said and then fell silent, seemingly unable to find the words to continue. 

"You have to understand, Harry, that things were different when we were your age," Remus said. Sirius nodded his agreement against Harry's shoulder. "Nowadays, most people will accept homosexuality. They're still not exactly comfortable with it, though, as you've been able to tell from the responses of your fellow students."

"In our days, people condemned you for it," Sirius added quietly. "Especially pureblood families."

"Oh," Harry said as it began to dawn on him what Sirius was really saying. "Your family wouldn't have accepted it?"

Sirius snorted. "My father beat me half to death for being sorted into Gryffindor. If he'd ever found out his son was a shirt-lifter, he would have killed me, I'm sure."

"We were very careful about not being caught when we were together in Hogwarts," Remus said. "We never did anything publicly that might give away we were more than friends. And we only shagged in our dorm, with a good locking spell on the door or in that hidden tower I showed you."

"Did anyone ever catch you?" Harry asked. 

"Your father," Remus replied. "He caught us snogging in my bed when we were fourteen. When we'd just figured out we liked each other in that way."

"What did he say?"

"'I can't bloody believe my best friends are a couple of poofters,'" Sirius said, and then smiled. "That was his first response. Then there was denial for a bit. And then finally, he figured we were still his friends and nothing would change that."

"So my dad wouldn't have minded me being into blokes?"

"No," Remus said. "Although he would probably have blamed us, even if we hadn't been shagging you."

"And then Lily would have told him to shut up already and just accept you for who you are. She was always the smarter one," Sirius added.

Harry grinned, relieved to know his parents wouldn't have objected to that side of him. "So no one ever figured out you were shagging each other?" he asked, curious to learn more about Sirius' and Remus' years in school. 

Sirius' expression changed, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, and Harry felt him tense against his back. "Snape," was all Sirius said. 

"Oh." Harry frowned. He glanced at Remus, whose gaze was oddly distant, as if he were disassociating himself from the conversation. And then Harry realized something and he looked at Sirius again over his shoulder. "Was that why you played that prank on him?"

There was silence for a moment, thick and uncomfortable, and Harry was almost afraid to breathe as he waited for Sirius' reply. 

"You have to understand that Snape was best mates with my brother Regulus," Sirius finally whispered. "And Regulus and I weren't the best of friends. If Snape had told Regulus he caught Remus and me snogging under the Quidditch stands, well, Regulus would have owled my parents with that news at once."

Sirius took a deep breath, and Harry put his hand on Sirius' arm, stroking it. "If my parents had found out I was a shirt-lifter and I was shagging a half-blood, I think my father would have come to school to beat that filthy habit out of me. Not to mention what he'd have done to Remus for daring to lead his son astray. I just wanted to protect Remus and myself."

"So you just sent Snape to the Shack?" Harry wondered aloud. 

"No. At first I let Snape blackmail me. He wanted money to start with, which wasn't a problem. But after a while, that wasn't enough anymore, and he tried to make me do things. Humiliating things. And then I figured I could probably intimidate him enough to keep his mouth shut and leave us alone if I could have him believe we had something that could kill him."

"A werewolf," Harry whispered. 

"Yep. I never said it was a sensible plan, but I was desperate and scared and I did what seemed best at that time." That earned him a snort from Remus, but Sirius ignored it. "So I sent Snape to the Shack. Not with the intention to get him killed or to get Remus into any kind of trouble, but just to scare him into leaving us the fuck alone. Of course, that was not how everything worked out."

"Not quite, no," Remus said dryly. Harry glanced up at him, and Remus gave him a reassuring smile. "But that all happened a long time ago, Harry, and those demons have been dealt with."

Harry nodded and then turned to look at Sirius again. "Did you run away after that? From home, I mean."

"Yeah. Everything had gone to hell and I had lost the one thing I cared for. I couldn't care about my family any longer. So I just packed my things the first day of that summer vacation and went to stay with your father."

Turning on his other side, Harry wrapped his arms around Sirius and hugged him. He knew Sirius wasn't perfect. Sirius had proven that often enough in the past. But he loved Sirius nonetheless, and the idea of not having Sirius was frightening. Sirius smiled against Harry's hair, and kissed him when Harry looked up at him. Then Harry turned around again and nuzzled Remus' shoulder, resting his arm across Remus' chest. 

"I don't want to lose either of you. Ever," he whispered. "And I don't want to argue with you. I don't want to fight."

Remus chuckled. "We have no intention of ever leaving you, Harry, but to think we will never argue again isn't very realistic."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Harry said, grinning up at Remus.

"Besides, if we never fight, we'll miss out on all the make-up sex," Sirius said, rubbing himself suggestively against Harry's back. 

"Very true," Remus agreed. Harry laughed but a yawn interrupted him, and he snuggled between his lovers. 

"I think it's time for some sleep." Remus pressed a kiss on Harry's forehead and then leaned over him to give Sirius a kiss as well. 

"And tomorrow, we'll start with a shag, then we'll have breakfast in bed, followed by another shag, then a quick shower, maybe some lunch, and another few shags to keep us busy until bedtime," Sirius said. 

"Sounds perfect," Harry whispered, and he meant it. Just being with Sirius and Remus again was all he wanted, and he smiled at the thought of having exactly that for the coming weeks. Harry closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of two warm bodies around him, Remus' steady heartbeat beneath his ear and Sirius' hot breaths against his shoulder until he fell asleep.

*~*~*~*~*

The next week was spent much in the fashion Sirius had suggested. They slept late, then started their day with some form of sex or another, followed by a soak in the tub and something to eat, and then they were usually ready for another shag in bed or on the couch, even once on the kitchen table. Harry was having a brilliant time and he was almost disappointed when Tonks and Kingsley showed up one morning to take Remus and him to Diagon Alley.

Sirius wished them a good day, and Harry waved goodbye sadly before using the kitchen fireplace to floo to The Leaky Cauldron. There they split up, and Harry had his own escort of Aurors as he strolled into Flourish and Blotts to buy a few presents. Tonks was cheerful as ever while Kingsley kept a careful eye on their surroundings and Harry enjoyed their company. He got a book on magical flowers and their uses for Neville and a book on the history of magical creatures in the wizarding world for Hermione. As he browsed the shelves, he noticed a comprehensive tome on vampires and decided to buy that for himself. Then he dragged Tonks and Kingsley to Quality Quidditch Supplies, where he bought a pair of Keeper's gloves for Ron and a practice Quaffle for Ginny. 

And then all he had left to buy were presents for Sirius and Remus. 

"Where to next, Harry?" Tonks asked. 

"Um..." Harry looked around, making sure no one could overhear them, and then leaned closer to Tonks. "Do you know if there is an...um...adult shop around here?"

Tonks slowly arched an eyebrow and her blue eyes gleamed in amusement. "An adult shop for adult things, you mean?"

"Yeah," Harry whispered. "I want to get some prank jokes for my mates." He could tell Tonks didn't believe him. "And maybe some things for myself," he mumbled. 

"I know just the shop for that!" Tonks grabbed Harry's elbow and they made their way through Diagon Alley, Kingsley on their heels, until they reached an inconspicuous door just on the edge of Knockturn Alley. Tonks went in first, followed by a curious and slightly hesitant Harry, and Kingsley closed the door behind them. 

"Wow," Harry gasped, and Tonks patted his shoulder. 

"Yeah. Wicked shop, eh?"

"I'll say." Harry didn't know where to start looking first. They had...well, they had everything Harry had ever imagined using during sex and then some. Harry shuffled to the shelves filled with dildos and magical vibrators in every imaginable size, and then reached for his money pouch, making sure he still had enough money left. When he concluded that yes, he had enough Galleons to buy whatever he wanted, Harry cast a glance over his shoulder. Tonks was busy showing what looked like a riding crop to Kingsley, and the brown skin of Kingsley's cheeks seemed even darker than usual. 

For the next twenty minutes, Harry browsed the shop and piled everything that seemed even remotely interesting into his arms. A magical vibrator, set to activate on voice command. A dildo shaped like a werewolf's cock. A set of magical handcuffs with extendable chains. A soft, black blindfold. A length of magical bondage rope that would tie itself up in any position desired. Massage oil with built-in aphrodisiac. Something that turned out to be nipple clamps after Harry examined the label carefully. A couple of metal cock and ball rings, also voice-controlled. And a book on gay sex with moving pictures of every position imaginable.

Hoping the young witch behind the counter wouldn't recognize him, Harry dumped the items on the wooden surface and watched quietly as she placed them all in a large gift box. 

"Did you find anything?" Tonks asked, placing a few items on the counter as well. Harry tried not to look at them while he nodded. He paid for his purchases, shrank the box to fit in the pocket of his cloak, and then went to stand beside Kingsley, waiting for Tonks to finish. 

They met up with Remus again in The Leaky Cauldron, and after saying their goodbyes, Harry and Remus used the public fireplace to floo home. 

"Have fun?" Sirius asked from his seat at the kitchen table. 

"Yeah. I got what I wanted." Harry pulled all the packages from his cloak and engorged them with a flick of his wand. He grinned when Sirius looked them all over curiously, but when Remus took out his purchases Harry couldn't help joining Sirius in acting like an impatient child. 

"Come on. We can put these under the tree," Sirius said. 

"You put up a tree?" Harry asked, and smiled when Sirius nodded. And sure enough, when they entered the drawing room, Harry saw a brightly decorated Christmas tree in the corner. 

"That's great," he said, shrugging off his cloak. Then he made a show out of walking to the small desk, picking up a quill and writing 'Sirius and Remus' on the large gift box from the adult shop. Sirius' eyes widened and the corner of his mouth twitched. 

"You can't open that until Christmas," Harry said, placing the box under the tree. Sirius scowled, but Remus merely picked up the quill and wrote a graceful 'Harry' on a large, wrapped object. Now it was Harry's turn to bite his lip and look anxious.

"Is anyone coming over for Christmas?" Harry asked, sitting down on the couch. Sirius joined him, pressing a kiss to Harry's mouth while he wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders. 

"No, not this year," Remus said, carefully arranging his presents under the tree. 

"Molly offered to have her family come over but we politely declined," Sirius said, and then looked at Harry thoughtfully. "Or would you rather spend Christmas with your friends?"

Harry had to think about that. Last year they'd spent Christmas with the Weasleys and while that had been fun, so many things were different this year. He was with Sirius and Remus now and he had changed, mostly due to the infection. 

"No," Harry finally said. "I'd rather just spend it with you two."

"Things not going well between you and your friends?" Sirius asked. Remus sat down on Harry's other side and rubbed Harry's thigh. 

"No, that's not it." Harry heaved a sigh and looked for the right words to say what he was feeling. "I think I've just changed too much. I mean, they're still my friends, but I'm different." He glanced at Remus, hoping he would have an explanation. 

"I suppose you have changed, Harry," Remus said. "The infection has changed you, obviously, and I think it's only normal that it might make you less comfortable around certain people. Having to keep your condition a secret doesn't help matters, either."

"Yeah," Harry agreed and placed his hand over Remus', weaving their fingers together. "I suppose you never had that problem, right?"

"Not while I was in school, no. I was already a werewolf when I made my friends."

Leaning his head on Sirius' shoulder, Harry thought about that. The only people he felt completely comfortable with these days were Sirius and Remus. His family. His pack. Surprisingly, Patrick and Ivan came in second, Harry concluded. He figured that was probably because they were Dark Creatures as well and understood him on a level most humans never would. Other than that, Harry felt reasonably comfortable around Bill. He thought that was perhaps because Bill was mature and while he wasn't a Dark Creature, he did know a lot about them. He'd even shagged one, which said enough about Bill's attitude toward non-humans.

"I guess I just have other things on my mind these days," Harry whispered. "Quidditch and homework don't matter much when you have to worry about monthly transformations and that pesky Dark Lord who wants to kill you." 

Sirius chuckled and Remus nodded his agreement. 

"And it's hard to have to listen to them plan their careers and the rest of their lives. I won't have that. Not in the way they will."

"We'll figure something out, Harry," Remus said. 

"It's only six more months until school ends." Harry glanced at Sirius and grinned. "Ivan suggested I become a Mortal Guard. Seems to pay well."

"A what?" Sirius asked, narrowing his eyes. 

Harry snorted with laughter. "I won't, don't worry. But it sounded intriguing. Apparently vampires like wizards as their personal guards."

"I'd rather we open a bookshop," Remus said, and winked at Harry. "I do have experience running one."

"Nah, not a bookshop. How about a Muggle record shop?" Sirius suggested. 

"Or a pet shop," Harry said, and smirked at Sirius. "You can demonstrate collars to the clientele." Sirius slapped Harry's head.

"An antique shop?" Remus asked hopefully. 

Sirius shook his head. "I know it. A bike repair shop."

"Oh please, not the bike again," Remus said, grinning. 

"Or a sex shop," Harry said. 

"What he said!" Sirius pressed a loud kiss on Harry's head. "I like the way your mind works, Harry."

Remus frowned thoughtfully. "Actually, the idea of running some sort of shop isn't so bad at all. That would mean moving to the Muggle world."

"I don't mind," Harry said. 

"Neither do I," Sirius added. 

"Of course, we won't be able to until this blasted war is over." Remus smiled gravely. 

"Yeah. And until I get my name cleared," Sirius whispered. 

"But it's not a bad idea," Harry concluded, squeezing Remus' hand and nuzzling Sirius' shoulder. 

"What's also a good idea is having supper. We have an Order meeting in an hour and a half." Sirius rose and pulled both Harry and Remus up by their joined hands.

*~*~*~*~*

The Order members arrived right on time, just after Harry and Remus were done cleaning up the dishes. Sirius busied himself making coffee and tea, studiously ignoring both Mrs Weasley and Snape.

After casting Sirius a narrowed glance, Mrs Weasley grabbed Harry into a tight hug. "How have you been, dear? You look much better than last time I saw you."

Harry returned the hug awkwardly. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Ron was very disappointed that he won't be spending Christmas with you," Mrs Weasley said, running a hand through Harry's hair and trying to straighten it. "Are you sure you don't want us to come over for Christmas dinner?"

Harry felt both irritation and guilt coil in his stomach. "We're sure, yeah. I do have presents for Ron and the rest. Could you take them with you after the meeting?"

"Of course, dear." Mrs Weasley went over to Sirius, and Harry looked around the kitchen. He greeted the members of the Order who were present that evening:. Tonks, Kingsley, Moody, Mr Weasley, Bill, Fred and George and Dumbledore. He ignored Snape and wanted to sit down beside Remus, but Fred caught his sleeve. 

"How is our silent partner doing this fine evening?" Fred asked as George slung an arm around Harry's shoulders. 

"I'm okay," Harry said, and returned Fred's smile. 

"You should really stop by the shop sometime, Harry," George said. "Business is going incredibly well and we have a whole new collection since last year."

"I will. Although at the moment it wouldn't be safe, you know."

"Yeah, we know," Fred said, nodding gravely. "But how are you doing, Harry? We've heard rumours about you."

"Really?" Harry couldn't hold back a grin and he saw Bill looking amused from the corner of his eye. 

"Yes, really," George said, squeezing Harry's shoulders. "We've heard you like blokes."

"And you know what? So do we," Fred whispered in Harry's ear. "So if you ever need to relax – "

"Or want to know what it's like with two blokes – "

"Or have any questions about shagging men – "

"Or just want to have some fun – "

"Be sure to come to us," Fred finished. 

Harry felt both amused and embarrassed. He had to admit that if it weren't for Sirius and Remus, the twins' offer would have been a very tempting one. "I'll remember that," he whispered, gave them a smile, and then slid out from under George's arm. 

"What was that all about?" Sirius asked when Harry joined him at the sink.

"They heard I like blokes and just made sure I know they like blokes as well," Harry whispered. Sirius snorted and shot the twins a dirty look, which they didn't seem to understand. Harry chuckled and followed Sirius to the table where Dumbledore called for everyone's attention. He sat down between Sirius and Remus and listened to Dumbledore's update of the happenings since the last Order meeting a month ago. 

A brief discussion followed on subjects Harry didn't quite understand since he hadn't attended the last few Order meetings. Mr Weasley talked about the Ministry, with Fred and George chiming in about Diagon Alley, and then Kingsley went off on a story about the incompetence of Fudge when it came to funding his Aurors.

It wasn't until Moody started talking that Harry perked up. 

"Our intelligence says Voldemort is still trying to get Dark Creatures on his side," Moody mumbled, leafing through a pile of notes in front of him. "At the moment, vampires are our biggest worry, since we're unable to get them to talk to us. Being vampires, they'll most likely join Voldemort."

"Um...but they don't want to join Voldemort," Harry said quietly, but everyone ignored him as they started talking among themselves about solutions to Moody's problem. 

"What did you say, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, and the room fell silent as they all stared at Harry. 

"I said they don't want to join Voldemort."

"Nonsense!" Moody grunted, his magical eye rolling wildly before it settled on Harry. "They're vampires. Of course they'll join him."

"Have you asked them?" Harry stared at his cup of tea, suddenly very aware of everyone's gazes fixed on him. 

"No." Moody shuffled through his notes and pulled out a scrap of parchment. "The vampires we've talked to said we have to speak to one Ivan Storkavic about that, but he refuses to meet with us."

"He'll talk to me," Harry said. 

"Don't be stupid," Moody growled. "He'll kill you."

"No, he won't. I've talked to him already."

The silence that followed was only interrupted by Bill chuckling and Sirius heaving a heavy sigh. 

"It's true," Remus said. "Harry's had contact with this vampire."

"You've let him socialize with vampires?" Mrs Weasley shrieked, glaring at Sirius. 

"Of course we have!" Sirius barked, glaring right back at her. "As a matter of fact, we send Harry off to Knockturn Alley every bloody night with a sign around his neck that says 'vampire bait'."

"Sirius, please," Remus sighed. Sirius huffed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. 

Mrs Weasley looked like she wanted to respond, but Dumbledore silenced her with a quick wave of his hand. 

"Harry, would you mind telling us why you've talked to this vampire?" he asked, folding his hands on the table. 

"That would be my fault," Bill said before Harry could respond. "That vampire I used in my class was Ivan Storkavic. Apparently Harry's had contact with him since then."

"You used a vampire in your class?" Mrs Weasley asked, her mouth falling open. 

"With my permission, Molly," Dumbledore said. "However, I wasn't aware this vampire was a key figure among his kind."

"He's a Master Vampire. The oldest in Britain for as far as I know," Bill said. 

"How do you know a vampire?" Mrs Weasley looked pale and stared at Bill in shock. 

"It's a long story, Mum. I met him in Egypt years ago, and when I ran into him in Hogsmeade again he was willing to assist me in my class. He wasn't willing to talk to me about Voldemort, though."

"Did you speak to him about Voldemort, Harry?" Dumbledore looked at Harry over the rim of his half-moon glasses. 

"I have, yeah." Harry nodded and again everyone fell silent, staring at him curiously. "Ivan has a...boyfriend and he's a werewolf. Actually, they met at Voldemort's, when Voldemort invited them to talk them into joining him."

"You've talked about this with a werewolf as well? Which werewolf would that be?" Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at Harry, and Harry felt his mind snapping shut on instinct. 

"Patrick McKinley," Remus answered for Harry. "He's well-respected among the werewolf community."

Moody paged through his notes frantically and pulled out another scrap of parchment, narrowing his normal eye at it while his magical eye kept staring at Harry. 

"They don't want to join Voldemort," Harry said. "Neither of them. And from what I understood, vampires and werewolves in general aren't too keen on Voldemort. But Ivan also made it very clear he doesn't like wizards or the Ministry of Magic."

"Then why would he talk to you?" Moody grunted, both eyes fixed on Harry. 

"I dunno...he said he liked me." Harry shrugged. 

"It seems Harry has formed a friendship with these two men," Remus said while Sirius snorted. "We weren't aware of this until very recently, but I suppose we could use it to our advantage."

"If we don't, he will," Bill agreed. 

"A friendship? You've let him become friendly with two...two beasts?" Mrs Weasley asked, her eyes wide. "That's all your fault, with your improper behaviour around him," she added, glaring at both Sirius and Remus. 

It seemed like the room exploded in the next two seconds. Sirius shoved his chair back and leaned over the table, pointing a finger at Mrs Weasley. Remus pushed Harry out of the way to reach for Sirius and pull him back into his seat. 

"Oi," Fred yelled. 

"Improper behaviour?" George demanded, staring at his mother in disbelief. 

"Mum, please," Bill sighed. 

"Molly, calm down." Mr Weasley put his hand on Mrs Weasley's shoulder, rubbing it. 

Harry watched impassively for a moment, but rage burned in his chest and he tensed as he heard Moody and Kingsley talking about how vampires were beasts and killers that couldn't be trusted. 

"Beasts?" he yelled, pushing Remus out of his way as he rose from his chair. "Have you met them? Have you ever talked to them? Do you know what goes on in their minds? Do you have any idea how bloody hard it is to be a beast?"

"Harry, please, sit down," Remus whispered, and he placed a comforting hand on Harry's arm.

"Do you think Remus is a beast?" Harry asked. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if they thought he was a beast, but Dumbledore's narrowed gaze stopped him. "You have no idea what you're talking about. And with that bloody attitude, you're surprised they might end up joining Voldemort." Taking a deep breath, Harry sat down again, not meeting anyone's gaze. 

"I do believe Harry has a point," Dumbledore said. "The wizarding world's general attitude towards Dark Creatures has always prevented us from gaining their alliance. It seems Harry is in a position to change part of that, at least when it comes to these two men, who happen to be representatives for their kind."

"If you're suggesting sending him back to them – "

"No, Sirius, that's not what I'm suggesting." Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "I'm merely considering the possibilities of gaining their support on our side."

"Who's to say they'll join us just because they're friendly with Harry?" Kingsley asked, and Moody nodded his agreement. 

"Ivan is very close to Patrick," Harry said. "And Patrick seems willing to discuss the issue. If we can convince Patrick, I'm sure Ivan will go along with him."

"Vampires are proud creatures," Bill said. "You have to win their respect before they will even consider talking to you. One way of showing your respect is by inviting them into your home."

"Oh, no," Sirius said, shaking his head. "I'm not inviting any stiff into my house."

"Harry already has Ivan's respect, from what I can tell," Bill said. "If he extends an invitation for a meeting in his house, I'm sure Ivan will answer it."

"How did you manage that, Harry?" Fred asked as George looked at Harry in awe. 

"I dunno," Harry mumbled. "I just treated him normally, I suppose. I took him flying on my broom and I gave him a bottle of wine for Christmas, and he gave me a present as well. That's all that happened, really."

"Wicked," George said as Fred nodded. 

"If we want to invite them for a meeting, we should do it quickly. The full moon is in less than a week, and I'm sure Patrick will not want to meet with anyone during the days around it," Remus said.

"Remus!" Sirius turned in his seat and glared at Remus over Harry's head. "You're not actually considering inviting them here, are you?"

"This isn't about us," Remus said. "If we can get the majority of vampires and werewolves on our side, we will have a strong army against Voldemort. Besides, if we don't offer them something, Voldemort will eventually come up with an offer they will not refuse."

"I agree with Remus," Dumbledore said. "If Harry extends an invitation, we can meet them here and discuss the matter with them."

"I'm not sending Harry back there," Sirius growled. 

"I also agree that it's not wise to let Harry deliver the message. However, I'm sure Harry is capable of writing a short letter to them. Bill, would you be willing to deliver that message to Mr Storkavic?" Dumbledore asked. Bill nodded. "Good. Then that's settled."

"Headmaster, if I may," Snape said. "We have no proof of their alliance except for Potter's vague recount of their conversation. I wouldn't think it wise to invite them here and expose them to our vital information."

"You are correct, Severus," Dumbledore said. "But I will suggest a simple memory spell to both men that will prevent them from leaking any information to the other side."

Snape nodded sourly, and Dumbledore focused his attention on Harry. "If you could write that letter, Harry?"

Moody pulled a fresh sheet of parchment from his stack and handed it to Harry together with a quill. 

"Um...what should I say?" Harry asked. 

"Whatever you want," Dumbledore replied. "It has to be your invitation."

Harry nodded and after thinking for a moment, he put his quill to the paper. 

_Ivan & Patrick,_

_I've discussed our meetings with a few friends and we'd like to talk to you about it in person. So I'd like to invite both of you over to my house, where we can have the meeting, should you accept the invitation._

_Bill will be delivering this note, so please let him know what you think about it and when you could meet us. We'd like to have the meeting as soon as possible._

_I hope to see you both soon._

_Best regards,_

_Harry_

Harry glanced up at Remus, who'd been reading over Harry's shoulder. 

"It looks fine, Harry," Remus said. Harry folded the note and handed it to Bill across the table, ignoring Sirius' disapproving grunt. 

They discussed the rest of the details and some other points Dumbledore brought up and then the meeting was called to an end. Remus saw everyone out, and Sirius busied himself with cleaning up cups and glasses, ignoring Harry. 

"Let's get some sleep," Remus said from the doorway. Harry nodded and joined him. Sirius threw a towel on the sink and grudgingly followed them upstairs. 

"Do you want to shag, Padfoot?" Remus asked once they entered their bedroom. 

"I'm afraid I'm not in the mood tonight," Sirius replied, and then kicked his boots off, sending them flying across the room, knocking a few of Remus' books to the ground. 

"We've really pissed him off," Remus whispered to Harry, who felt a bit lost at seeing Sirius so disgruntled. 

"I'm not pissed off!" Sirius pulled his robes off over his head and stomped to the bed, yanking the sheets back. "I just can't believe that out of all the werewolves and vampires on this bloody planet, we have to invite those two over for a chat." He got into bed and turned on his side, his back to Remus and Harry. 

"Ah. He's jealous," Remus whispered. 

"I'm not jealous!" Sirius punched the pillow a few times and lay back down. 

"Ignore him. Let's get to bed, shall we?" Remus kissed Harry and started undressing. Harry followed his example, still a bit unsure what to do. He felt wide awake and he was nervous about meeting Patrick and Ivan with everyone else around. Sirius' childish behaviour didn't help matters much either. 

"I think I'll read a bit before going to sleep," Harry said, and picked up his new book on vampires before crawling under the covers. He stared at Sirius' back, feeling the mattress dip as Remus settled down on his other side. Worrying his lip, Harry reached out and stroked Sirius' shoulder. When Sirius didn't pull away, Harry leaned over and kissed it. 

"Oh, you two nancy-boys," Sirius muttered. He pushed himself up, kissed both Harry and Remus roughly and then lay down again, but this time facing them. Harry smiled and propped the book up on his knees, opening it to the first chapter. 

"Mind if I read along?" Remus asked. Harry scooted closer to him by way of answering, and Remus reached for his reading glasses on the nightstand. With Harry leaning comfortably against Remus and Remus' arm wrapped around Harry's shoulders, they read about vampire history and behaviour until Harry's eyes fell shut. He hardly noticed Remus sliding his glasses off and dislodging the book from his hands before extinguishing the light with a flick of his wand.


	13. Chapter 12

Harry sat on the couch in the drawing room, his stomach a nervous knot. Remus sat beside him, looking as composed as ever, but Harry could tell by the twitching muscle in his jaw that Remus was nervous as well. Sirius paced the room, hands clasped behind his back. The rest of the Order sat and stood around the room, talking softly or, in the twins' case, examining the decorations on the Christmas tree and adding some of their own, which Harry suspected would explode at some point before the holidays were over. 

Patrick and Ivan had agreed to meet them, and now, two days after the Order had sent the invitation, everyone waited for them to arrive. Bill and Kingsley had gone out to collect them and they were expected to return any minute now. 

Harry's palms were sweaty and he wiped them on his robes. Then he sighed and glanced up at Remus, who smiled at him in return. 

The doorbell rang and Harry's heart skipped a beat. Remus got up to answer it and Harry followed him, the rest of the Order moving as well, some staying behind and a few spreading across the hallway. 

Bill entered, his expression one of annoyance, and Patrick walked in behind him, looking thoroughly pissed off. Harry worried his lip, wondering what on earth had happened. He got the answer when Kingsley pushed a blindfolded and bound Ivan inside. A low, rumbling growl sounded through the hallway, as if Kingsley had just led in a lion rather than a man. 

"Get those bonds off him right now or this meeting ends before it's even started," Patrick said through gritted teeth, and Bill nodded, seemingly agreeing with him. 

"He refused the memory charm, Albus," Kingsley said, one large hand gripping tightly around Ivan's shoulder. "I had no choice but to bind him, since he's already seen and heard too much."

"Release him at once, please," Dumbledore said, looking thoughtful. 

Kingsley sighed and reached for his wand. He released the magical bonds around Ivan's wrists with a muttered spell and wanted to step back, but Ivan moved faster than anyone could see and pinned Kingsley, who wasn't a small man by any means, to the wall as if he weighed nothing. 

"Do you believe I need my sight to snap your neck, mortal?" Ivan snarled, a pale hand curled around Kingsley's dark throat. Kingsley went completely still, his eyes wide as he glanced at Dumbledore. 

"Ivan, let go of him," Patrick said, but Ivan ignored him, baring his fangs as he sniffed around Kingsley's face. 

Harry saw Moody, Snape and Sirius pull out their wands and he knew things would get very bad very quickly if Ivan didn't release Kingsley at once. He tried to think of something to do or say, something to distract Ivan, and through the chaos of thoughts in his mind one thing that popped up seemed the perfect solution. 

"Ivan," Harry said quietly, knowing Ivan could hear him without any problems. "Remember that picture of yourself you gave me? I wanked to it the other day in bed, when I couldn't sleep."

In retrospect, it might not have been the most sensible thing to say, Harry realized as he heard several gasps and snickers around him. But it did have the desired effect. Every gaze was on him now, and Ivan slowly turned his still blindfolded head away from Kingsley.

"Did you now, darling?" he said. 

"Yeah. And Sirius didn't believe you were that well-hung when he saw the picture." Sirius snorted loudly at that. "But I told him you were."

"Of course I am. Silly dogboy." Ivan released Kingsley's throat and reached for his blindfold, pulling it off in one smooth motion. Harry smiled at him and Ivan smiled back, stepping away from Kingsley, who sagged to the floor. Tonks rushed to his side while everyone else regarded Harry and Ivan silently. 

"I have wine in the kitchen," Harry said, and grabbed Ivan's hand, Ivan's skin cold against his sweaty palm. He glanced around and saw Bill grinning at them and Patrick giving him a thumbs-up. 

"Let's have a drink then, darling," Ivan said, and let Harry lead him to the small flight of stairs. When they were out of earshot of the rest, Ivan leaned closer to Harry. "Thanks for that, puppy," he whispered. "I couldn't not show my displeasure at their treatment."

"Yeah, I understand. They shouldn't have done that to you."

"I can't say I'm not used to it, but I was under the impression I was welcome here."

Harry let go of Ivan's hand when they entered the kitchen. "You are welcome here. I invited you, didn't I? They'll just have to suck it up."

"Brave puppy," Ivan whispered, trailing his cool fingers down Harry's cheek. 

"Um...most of them don't know my secret," Harry said, giving Ivan a pleading look. 

"Don't worry. Billy told us. Your secret is safe with me." Ivan unhooked his cloak, slid it off and draped it across the back of a chair. 

Harry stepped up to the counter, reaching for one of the bottles of wine on the shelf. Looking Harry over, Ivan strode over to him, pressing himself against Harry's back just a bit. 

"Did you really wank to my picture?" Ivan whispered in Harry's ear, his cool breath a teasing tickle on Harry's heated skin. 

Harry felt himself blush and he almost dropped the bottle. "Um...yeah, I did. Once. Fuck, Sirius will be so pissed off."

"Ah, he's the jealous type," Ivan said, nuzzling Harry's temple. 

"Yes, he is," Sirius said from somewhere behind them, and Ivan stepped back at once. Harry turned and gave Sirius an apologetic smile, and he noticed the rest of the Order entering the kitchen one by one. Ivan withdrew into a corner of the room, his blue eyes narrowed and darting between the people gathered. Patrick walked up to him to stand beside him. 

"Headmaster, the vampire still hasn't agreed to the memory charm," Snape said. 

"Keep your hocus pocus away from me, mortal," Ivan snarled, and Patrick immediately stepped in front of him to prevent another physical confrontation. "If a Master Vampire's word isn't good enough for you, then this meeting will end right now."

"Mr Storkavic," Dumbledore said, approaching Ivan carefully. "I suggest we do this the old-fashioned way." 

While everyone watched quietly, Dumbledore pulled a small knife from his pocket, cut across the palm of his right hand, and then offered the knife to Ivan. Much to Harry's surprise, Ivan accepted it. 

"One who knows the ancient ways. Admirable," Ivan said, cutting the palm of his right hand as well. He returned the knife to Dumbledore and then accepted Dumbledore's outstretched, bleeding hand, pressing his own bleeding palm against it. 

"My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I was born on November 7th, 1843."

"Do you have the authority to speak for these mortals?" Ivan asked, his voice solemn and his brow furrowed. 

"Yes, I have." Dumbledore gave him a bright smile. 

"My name is Ivan Storkavic. I was born on April 4th, 1474 and I was turned on January 13th, 1497. I have been a Master Vampire since 1799."

Dumbledore curved a silver eyebrow. "I thought it was custom for Master Vampires to name their Sire." 

Ivan's gaze narrowed. "You thought wrong."

"Very well. Do you have the authority to speak for your kin?"

"Yes, I have."

"Good. I suggest we start this meeting then." Dumbledore released Ivan's hand and cleaned the blood off his skin with a flick of his wand. Ivan brought his hand up to his mouth and licked it clean with slow swipes off his tongue as Patrick stared at him and rolled his eyes. 

"Headmaster?" Snape asked, glaring between Ivan and Dumbledore. 

"Mr Storkavic and I have bound our agreement in blood. It's an ancient way of doing business between mortals and vampires. It is safe to start our negotiations." Dumbledore sat down at the head of the table and gestured for everyone to join him. 

Snape didn't look particularly convinced but sat down anyway, scowling. 

"Um...do we have a corkscrew?" Harry asked. Remus joined him and wanted to open the bottle of wine with his wand, but Harry stopped him. "Magic messes with the taste, according to Ivan."

Ivan blew Harry a kiss while Patrick shook his head. "You're spoiling him, lad."

"I'm sure we have one, somewhere," Remus said, and rummaged around in one of the drawers until he found a simple corkscrew. Harry accepted it and frowned while he placed it on the cork, not quite sure how to proceed. 

Ivan was by his side instantly. "It takes skill, darling. You don't want bits of cork to end up in the wine. Allow me."

Harry let him have a go at it, and Ivan smoothly popped the cork out of the bottle. He filled the glasses Harry handed him and raised one, sloshing the dark red liquid around while he sniffed it. 

"Lovely bouquet," he said before taking a sip. Harry followed his example, not quite sure what he should be smelling, but it looked interesting, he thought.

"Harry, go sit down," Sirius said, waving Harry towards the table. "I'll get everyone something to drink."

Harry walked around the table towards the last empty seats and was surprised when Ivan and Patrick sat down on either side of him. Then again, he was the one who had officially invited them, so Harry supposed it wasn't so strange after all. Remus sank down in a seat opposite them and managed to give Patrick a tight smile. Patrick answered him with a polite nod of his head and Harry was relieved they at least seemed able to act civilly around each other. 

Dumbledore waited until Sirius was done with levitating bottles, glasses, cups and a steaming pot of tea to the table, and then cleared his throat. 

"Welcome all, and of course, a special welcome to our guests."

Patrick smiled at Dumbledore, but Ivan was too busy with sidling up against Harry, taunting Sirius who sat down beside Remus and glared at them. Harry elbowed Ivan discreetly in the ribs and gave him a bright smile when Ivan scowled at him.

"Since we called this meeting, I shall start with a few questions before we negotiate possible terms." Dumbledore folded his hands and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Harry has informed us that Voldemort has had contact with you about forming an alliance. Is this true?"

"Aye," Patrick said. "About a year and a half ago, Voldemort contacted spokespeople for several magical and Dark Creatures. Werewolves, vampires, centaurs and goblins. From what I know, none agreed to an alliance with Voldemort."

"You...both of you met with Voldemort? What did he offer you?"

"The usual," Ivan said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "'You may eat all the mortals you want if you obey my every command and kneel before me.'" Ivan snorted. "No, thanks. I'll dine on my own terms, without rolling over for a second-rate sorcerer."

"I would hardly call Voldemort a second-rate sorcerer," Dumbledore said with a patient smile. 

"Oh, but I would," Ivan said, smirking. "I've seen far worse than that wannabe megalomaniac in my days, trust me."

"Basically, Voldemort offered us our rights back as Dark Creatures," Patrick said, ignoring Ivan. "Of course, they came with Voldemort's own terms and those weren't very appealing."

"He wanted you to fight for him, I assume?" Dumbledore asked. Beside him, Kingsley was writing furiously, taking notes of everything that was said, and Moody had both his normal and magical eyes fixed on Ivan. 

"Something like that. Although the way he said it, it was more along the lines of: I will use you as mindless killing machines to slaughter all who oppose me," Ivan said and yawned, his fangs flashing in the flickering candlelight. "Please, someone should tell him to come up with something far more original."

"So you refused his offer?"

"Of course I did." Ivan gave Dumbledore an offended look. "Your Voldemort should really do his homework better before offering a Master Vampire anything. He seemed quite surprised when I told him my kin and I weren't interested in slaughtering mortals on command."

"The centaurs and goblins made it clear they wish to stay neutral in this war," Patrick said. "And I made it clear that werewolves will not agree to any terms that include the killing of innocents. Since that's the only use we have for Voldemort, the negotiations fell flat after that."

"I'm glad to hear that, Mr McKinley," Dumbledore replied. 

"Wait," Sirius said, his brow furrowed in confusion. He looked at Ivan and seemed genuinely interested in what he had been saying. "No offence meant here, but you're a vampire. How the bloody hell are you not interested in slaughtering humans?"

Every gaze at the table, Harry's included, was fixed on Ivan. 

"Because it is not what we want," Ivan whispered, his lips creeping up in a sly smile. 

"Then what is it that you want?" Remus asked. 

"Now that is the question, isn't it?" Ivan's eyes narrowed and his expression became serious. "No one ever asks us what we want. No one ever asks us if we want to kill. No one asked me if I wanted to be turned. No one asks a vampire anything." Ivan's lip curled up, baring his fangs. "It's always: dear lord, a vampire, bring out the crosses and stakes and holy water and let's tie him up between four horses and quarter him and let his still-living remains lie until the sun burns him to ashes."

Harry swallowed; it was the only sound while silence filled the room. 

"I was human once. I am human still, as much as Patrick is human. As much as you are human," Ivan said, staring at Remus.

"You have a soul," Remus said. It wasn't a question, but Ivan nodded in reply nonetheless. 

"What we want, vampires and werewolves alike, is a solution to our problem," Patrick said. "We never asked to become what we are. And yet we are shunned for it. Hunted for it. Slaughtered for it."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm quite aware of the unjust laws for Dark Creatures. But you must understand that we cannot change them this instance."

"And you must understand that if you want the alliance of vampires, you'd better come up with a very good offer, since those silly laws of a government we don't even recognize are the least of our problems," Ivan said. 

"You want solutions, both of you. What kind of solutions would those be? You know there isn't a cure for either of your conditions," Kingsley said. 

"I don't want a cure. I'm quite happy to be me, thanks ever so much." Ivan huffed and Patrick put his hand on Ivan's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "However, a few modifications would be most welcome, especially for those of my kin with less control."

"Like the Wolfsbane Potion," Harry said, glancing at Remus and Sirius. "You want something that can control the violent side of your kin, right?"

"Exactly, darling."

"And the same goes for werewolves. If the Wolfsbane Potion would be distributed among my kind, we'd be harmless and there would be no reason for all those restrictive laws," Patrick said. Remus quietly nodded his agreement at that, as did Harry. 

"Let's discuss the Wolfsbane Potion first before we look at possible solutions for your kin, Mr Storkavic," Dumbledore said, and looked at Snape. "Severus, what are your thoughts on this?"

Snape snatched Kingsley's quill and a sheet of parchment from his hands and scribbled something down, his greasy hair curtaining his face. Then he glanced up at Patrick. 

"There are a few difficulties with brewing the Wolfsbane Potion on a larger scale," he said, tapping the feathery end of his quill against his thin lips. "First, it's expensive. My brief calculation shows that one cup of Wolfsbane Potion costs approximately twenty Galleons. Secondly, it takes five days to brew and it's only durable for a week. Thirdly, it is a difficult potion to brew."

"If I recall correctly, Mr McKinley was a better than average student in Potions," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Perhaps with the proper instruction, he could be taught to brew it and in turn, he could teach it to other werewolves."

Patrick shrugged. "I did all right in Potions, I suppose, but it's been a while since I've touched a cauldron."

"As for the costs, could it help to grow and keep the ingredients ourselves?"

Snape nodded at Dumbledore. "All the floral ingredients can be easily grown at home. However, both the crushed glumbumbles and jobberknoll feathers are expensive, although I suppose one could keep these animals at home as well with some guidance."

"Good. As for the durability of the potion, could that be altered?"

"With some experimentation, I'm sure I can increase it," Snape said. 

"Very good. If we can provide the majority of werewolves in Britain with the Wolfsbane Potion, it will make our case for more favourable Dark Creatures laws much easier." Dumbledore looked at Patrick. "You have my word, Mr McKinley, that everyone at this table will actively aid you and your kin in your fight against the Ministry's laws."

"Then I can tell you that all the werewolves I have contact with will gladly join your side in this war," Patrick replied. 

Tonks clapped her hands, Fred and George let out a triumphant cry and even Moody managed a grim smile. Harry stared at Remus and Sirius and smiled so widely it hurt his cheeks. He wanted to hug them, but since they weren't alone that wasn't a possibility. Sirius and Remus grinned at him in return, and Harry felt Patrick give his thigh a little squeeze under the table. 

"Now, Severus, do you believe it possible to develop something that might prove a solution to Mr Storkavic's problems?" Dumbledore nodded at Snape encouragingly. 

Snape looked at Ivan and narrowed his eyes. "That depends on what the problem is exactly."

"The problem is that fledgling vampires have no control over their feeding habits and thus kill their victims," Ivan said matter-of-factly. "It takes at least a century before a vampire builds up enough control not to drain their prey. And thus the casualty rate amongst those mortals that cross their paths is rather high during that time."

"Are you saying that after that time, a vampire won't kill his prey anymore?" Snape asked, his tone one of disbelief. 

"Well, won't is a big word. I'm saying that an Elder Vampire has enough control not to kill his victims if he wishes. And most do wish to feed without taking their prey's life."

"It would take research," Snape mused, staring off in the distance. "But if there is something in vampires that builds up their control over time, I'm sure a potion can be developed to speed up that process."

"What sort of research are we talking about? Magical?" Ivan wrinkled his nose. 

"Of course magical," Snape snarled and rolled his eyes. "If you want a magical potion to aid you, you'll have to deal with a bit of hocus pocus on the side."

Ivan released a low growl, and Harry, in a sudden protective urge, placed his hand on top of Ivan's. 

"Why do you...do vampires hate magic so much?" he asked. "I read about the history of vampires in this book I got, but there wasn't anything about that in it."

Ivan turned his face to Harry and an amused smile tugged on his lips. "That's because wizards prefer to keep that part of history out of their books, darling."

"What happened?" Harry asked, now feeling genuinely curious.

"Once upon a time vampires and wizards got along marvellously," Ivan said, turning Harry's hand over on the table and tracing the tips of his fingers across Harry's palm. "And then one wizard fucked it all up. That's the short version. Do you want to hear the long one?"

Harry nodded and he saw from the corner of his eye that Sirius, Remus and several other Order members nodded as well. 

"There used to be an understanding between vampires and wizards. They gave us their blood in exchange for our blood, which makes a potent potions ingredient. They kept us safe during the day and we kept them safe during the night. It was profitable for both our kinds. Of course, that was before my time, since I was born and turned during the days of Prince Dracula's reign, the wizard who decided things had to be done differently."

"Prince Dracula?" Harry gasped. Snape snorted loudly, Mr Weasley looked confused and Tonks was sitting on the edge of her seat in sheer fascination, almost slipping off her chair. 

"Wait a minute," Sirius said, and looked at Remus with a frown. "Shouldn't that be Count Dracula? And wasn't he a vampire?"

"Look, who is telling the story here, dogboy? You or me?" Ivan glared at Sirius, who sighed and then gestured at Ivan to continue. 

"Prince Vlad Dracula ruled over Wallachia. He wasn't a count, but a prince in the Order of the Dragon, just like his father. But he was a prince without an army, since he'd spent most of his youth as a captive of the Turks. He was also a wizard, born to Muggles, and with his magical powers he assembled and controlled an army of vampires, thus breaking every alliance between wizards and my kin."

"So Dracula wasn't a vampire?" Harry asked. 

"No, he wasn't," Ivan replied. "Bram Stoker really should have done his homework better when he wrote that ridiculous book."

"So he what...he made vampires? And that's got your knickers in a twist?" Sirius wondered aloud. 

Ivan narrowed his eyes. "He didn't make vampires. He used them as tools during his killing sprees. You have to understand that Dracula was a psychopath of the worst and cruellest kind. During his reign, at least eighty thousand innocents – men, women and children – were slaughtered. He makes your Voldemort look like a choir boy."

Sirius swallowed and Harry saw Mrs Weasley press a handkerchief to her mouth, her face pale. 

"He impaled, decapitated, quartered, blinded, strangled, hanged, burned, boiled, skinned, roasted and buried his victims alive. But his worst punishment for those who dared oppose him, or even only annoyed him, was to have a vampire turn them, condemning them to an immortal life."

"Why was that his worst punishment?" Fred asked, looking intrigued. 

"Yeah, I think I'd rather be turned than quartered," George agreed. 

"Because when a Sire abandons his Childe, the fledgling vampire will wake up with two needs he cannot control. First, he'll want to go home. And second, he'll want to feed."

Fred's eyes widened and he slowly nodded his head. "I see."

"To condemn a man to live forever with the knowledge he's killed his...family is the cruellest punishment imaginable," Ivan whispered. 

Sirius hung his head. "Yeah, I bet. One lifetime seems long enough for me."

"You didn't kill them," Remus said, frowning at Sirius. 

"I might as well have, Moony."

Harry pursed his lips and stared down, only now noticing that Ivan had woven his fingers through his. He glanced up to see that Ivan's expression was oddly emotionless. 

"They should teach that in History of Magic, instead of all those boring goblin wars. That way no one will fall asleep, that's for sure," George said, and Fred nodded. Rolling his eyes, Bill reached over Fred and slapped the back of George's head. 

"Boys," Mr Weasley said in a mildly threatening tone. Mrs Weasley still had her handkerchief pressed to her mouth and was looking at Ivan as if he were a lost puppy instead of a Dark Creature. 

"Well, now that we've all heard the fascinating story of the vague history of the undead, I suggest we get back to the issue at hand," Snape said, clearly unimpressed with the whole situation. 

Ivan snapped his gaze at him. "What do you need for your research? My blood? You can have it, if I can have a taste of yours."

"Ivan," Patrick growled. 

Smirking, Ivan shrugged. "Can't blame a man for trying to get a free meal, now can you?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Snape sighed. "Yes, I'll need your blood. Plus the blood of a fledgling vampire. And I'll need to hear a lot more about the physiology of the undead. For one, why are you still walking and talking when you died five hundred years ago?"

"An excellent question," Ivan said, and then stayed quiet. Snape glared at him, and Ivan gave him an innocent smile. "I don't know the answer, don't look at me."

Harry snickered and Sirius grinned, but Remus looked thoughtful. "It must be the soul," he said. "When someone dies, their soul leaves their body. Apparently, that doesn't happen to vampires."

"That's interesting," Bill said. "In ancient Egypt, wizards believed that after death, the soul will return to its body to rest. That's why they mummified their deceased, to keep the body whole. Some wizards were even able to reanimate them long after they had died."

"Fascinating as this may be, it is getting late," Dumbledore said. He looked at Snape, Bill, Remus, Ivan, Patrick, Sirius and Harry in turn. "I suggest you arrange a new meeting to discuss these things more thoroughly. As you can see, Mr Storkavic, at the moment all we can offer you is the promise of research."

"If your research is successful, my kin will side with you," Ivan replied, and Dumbledore nodded his accord.

"Then I thank you all for your attendance and wish you a good night." Dumbledore rose from his chair and a few others followed his example. 

Harry remained seated and looked first at Sirius and Remus and then at Patrick and Ivan, and he got the perfect idea. "Why don't you come over tomorrow to discuss things further?" he asked Patrick and Ivan. 

"But Harry, tomorrow's Christmas," Sirius said. 

"I know," Harry replied, trying not to grin too smugly. "Unless you have other plans?" he asked Patrick. 

"We don't have any plans, but I wouldn't want to intrude," Patrick said, casting a quick glance at Remus, who was whispering something to Sirius. 

"I would," Ivan said, smirking.

"Shut it, Ivan."

Harry gave Sirius his best pleading look. "We could have dinner here." Then he glanced up at Ivan. "Um...that is...do you even eat?"

"I've been known to appreciate fine cuisine, yes, puppy."

"If Moony has no objections, then sure, fine," Sirius said. Harry gave him a winning smile and then directed his best pleading look at Remus.

Sighing, Remus rubbed his hands across his face and then nodded.

"Great!" Harry turned in his chair. "Bill, Professor Snape!"

"Wait a minute," Sirius said, but before he could continue, both Bill and Snape joined them. 

"We want to continue the research here tomorrow, over dinner," Harry said. Bill looked amused and Snape seemed appalled. 

"Come on, Severus," Bill said, nudging Snape with his elbow. "Don't you want to get it over with?"

"Fine. What time?" Snape said, crossing his arms. 

"Um..." Harry glanced at Sirius. 

"After sunset, if you don't mind," Ivan drawled. "I don't travel well in daylight."

"Seven," Sirius said, and then looked as if he wanted to bang his head on the table for having invited Snape to Christmas dinner. 

Snape nodded and turned on his feet, sweeping out of the kitchen. 

"Am I the only one who thinks he looks like a giant bat?" Ivan wondered aloud. Harry snorted with laughter. 

"I'll be here at seven," Bill replied. "Let me tell Mum I won't be home for her Christmas feast."

"Is that your mum?" Ivan asked, pushing himself up from his chair. He slung an arm around Bill's shoulders and let Bill lead him to Mrs Weasley. 

"You have a fine son, Mum," Ivan said, smiling sweetly at Mrs Weasley. "Billy's such a courteous young man. If it weren't for his fear of commitment, you would have had me as your son-in-law."

Bill snorted. "Eternity was indeed a commitment I wasn't ready to make yet five years ago."

Harry didn't hear Mrs Weasley's reply, because Sirius had stepped up behind him and pulled him up out of his chair. 

"You're going to pay for that, Harry," Sirius whispered in Harry's ear. "Tricking me into inviting Snape of all bloody people to Christmas dinner."

"So you're not mad about the rest of the guests we've invited?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I'm still trying to decide that." Sirius squeezed the back of Harry's neck but it was playful and Harry could see a smile tugging on Sirius' lips.

"It's for the good of the Order and our fight against evil," Harry said, trying to look earnest. Sirius rolled his eyes. 

"You're still going to pay for it, mate."

Harry grinned. Sirius' tone of voice promised an interesting punishment, and Harry hardly objected to that. He suddenly wished everyone would leave already, so he could drag Sirius and Remus with him upstairs.

"Remus," Patrick said quietly beside them. "If you'd rather not have me over tomorrow, I can send Ivan here by himself."

"No, it's all right," Remus said. "I suppose it is time to bury the hatchet. You were right that we aren't each other's enemies. Not anymore."

Patrick offered Remus his hand and Remus shook it without hesitation.

"I think it's time to collect my vampire and be off," Patrick said. The four of them looked around the room and saw Ivan cornered by Fred and George. 

"He'll need saving," Harry said, grinning. "They will never let him go on their own."

"I've got him trained well," Patrick replied, and then whistled sharply through his teeth. Ivan's gaze snapped up and Patrick waved him over. 

"Identical twins," Ivan said happily after he'd joined them. "Did you see that, love?"

"Aye. Very nice. But I think their mum will have a heart attack if you shag anymore of her sons. Now, let's get going." Patrick looked at Sirius. "Can we use your fireplace?"

"By all means," Sirius said. They watched as Ivan, objecting loudly, and Patrick stepped onto the hearth and disappeared in a burst of green flames.

Harry waited impatiently for everyone else to leave, and the moment Remus closed and locked the front door, Harry rushed up the stairs to their bedroom. 

"Come on!" he yelled over his shoulder. Inside their bedroom, he threw himself on the bed, landing on his back with a little bounce.

"What's got into you?" Sirius asked, stepping inside, followed by Remus. 

"I'm horny," Harry said, giving Sirius his best seductive smile. 

"It's only three days to the full moon," Remus said to Sirius, whose eyes widened and then he nodded his understanding. 

"You were never this hyper, though," Sirius replied. 

"God, I certainly hope not," Remus said with an amused smile. 

"Don't you want to fuck me?" Harry asked, dropping his voice to a low whisper, which he hoped would sound seductive. He stretched himself out and then realized he was still dressed. He quickly started on the buttons of his robes. 

"I most certainly want to fuck you, Harry," Sirius said, crossing his arms. "But first I want to know what you wanking to the stiff's picture is all about."

Harry's cheeks flushed and he stilled his hands halfway down his robes. "I dunno...I just looked at it for a bit. Only once. Don't you ever look at wank mags? Same thing."

"It's not the same thing," Sirius said, walking to the desk where he picked up Ivan's picture. "You know this bloke. You wanked to a picture of someone you know."

Remus sat down on the bed to pull off his shoes and Harry pushed himself up, giving Remus a pleading look for support. But Remus stayed quiet and Harry turned his attention back to Sirius, who was giving Ivan's picture a careful look. 

"Oh, come on," Harry sighed. "You've got to admit he looks good."

"He looks dead, Harry," Sirius said and threw the picture back onto the desk.

"He's just jealous," Remus whispered to Harry, who threw himself back to the bed in frustration. 

"I'm not jealous!"

"Oh yeah?" Harry narrowed his eyes, propping himself up on his elbows. "Come here and say that again."

Sirius stomped over to the bed and leaned over Harry, staring into Harry's eyes. "I. Am. Not. Jealous."

Harry gritted his teeth and thought 'Legilimens' with all his strength. A sharp surge of cold, bitter jealousy rushed through him, along with bits of insecurity and annoyance. He looked away briefly to break contact with Sirius' mind and then pushed himself up to his feet and jumped on the bed in victory. 

"You are jealous! I knew it!"

Sirius' mouth dropped open. "Oi! That's not fair. Moony, say something!"

"You did it," Remus said, smiling up at Harry proudly. Harry grinned and jumped harder, raising his arms in the air. 

"Not that!" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Tell him he's cheating, using that on us."

"You tell him." Remus shrugged off his robes. "I'm just happy he got it right."

"I got it right!" Harry yelled, now trying to see if he could jump high enough to touch the ceiling. 

"Harry, I'm getting seasick here," Remus said from his place on the rocking bed. Harry stopped jumping and busied himself with undoing the rest of his robes. 

"You are a cheat, Mr Potter," Sirius said. "Using powerful magic on poor, unsuspecting victims like your godfather."

Harry snickered. "The Sorting Hat almost put me in Slytherin for a reason, you know."

"Go on, pile up the traumas here!" Sirius threw his hands in the air. "My godson, the almost-Slytherin who wanks to pictures of dead people."

Snorting with laughter, Harry pushed his robes off, leaving him only in his boxers, which clearly showed his erection. 

"Oh, I've got one for you," Remus said innocently. "Your godson, who is about to be shagged by his godfather and his gay lover."

"Oddly, I have no problems with that," Sirius replied, staring at Harry's tented boxers with a hungry gaze. Harry licked his lips and hooked his thumbs behind the waistband, pushing his boxers down so his hard cock was freed. 

"Please, touch me," he whispered, stepping out of his boxers and curling his hand around the base of his cock. 

"You want me to suck you?" Sirius asked, tilting his head. Harry nodded breathlessly. "Lie down."

Letting himself fall to the bed, Harry watched as Sirius pulled off his robes, kicked off his boots and shoved down his boxers. Remus crawled up to Harry and the next thing Harry knew was one hot mouth on his and one hot mouth around his cock. He arched his back off the bed, moaning into Remus' mouth, tangling one hand in Remus' hair and the other in Sirius', keeping both their heads in place. 

Harry let his eyes fall shut and concentrated on the incredible feeling of Sirius' mouth working his prick in fast, wet strokes and Remus devouring his mouth with agile lips and a demanding tongue. He knew he wouldn't last long. He was far too aroused to hold his orgasm back and the testosterone building up inside him because of the impending full moon didn't help matters much. He just let them guide him over the edge with their skilled mouths, Sirius kneading his taut sac and Remus pinching his hard nipples. 

His climax hit him hard and Harry bucked his hips up, spurting his seed deep down Sirius' throat, who swallowed eagerly around his prick. Harry gasped into Remus' mouth, his body jerking against the sheets as he came down from the heights of his orgasm. 

"Fuck," he sighed when Remus broke the kiss. Remus smiled down at him and ran a hand through Harry's tousled hair.

"No, that's what we'll be doing next," Sirius said, grinning as he crawled up Harry's body. "I'm going to fuck you until you howl, Harry."

"No, actually, we are going to fuck you until you howl, Padfoot," Remus said.

"Huh?" Harry and Sirius said at the same time. 

Remus reached for the tube of lubricant on the nightstand and then shifted down the bed and positioned himself behind Sirius, between Harry's spread legs. "I think Sirius needs a little reminder who he belongs to. All this silly jealousy for nothing."

Sirius shot Remus an annoyed look over his shoulder, but didn't object. When he looked down at Harry again, Harry could see that Sirius' cheeks were flushed with arousal and his cock was already leaking small drops. 

"Do you want to fuck Sirius with me, Harry?" Remus asked. Harry nodded, reeling at the idea of burying himself inside Sirius with Remus' prick right there as well. He could tell from Sirius' groan that Remus was preparing him and Harry reached for his own spent cock, stroking it back to hardness. Remus got them all ready in a matter of minutes; he pushed a couple of pillows beneath Harry's arse, he slicked up Harry's cock with a few strokes of his lubed hand and then he guided Harry's prick to Sirius' arse and Harry sighed when Sirius lowered himself and Harry was surrounded by tight, slick heat. 

"Hold still for a moment," Remus said and pushed two fingers inside Sirius alongside Harry's cock. Harry gasped at that new feeling but quickly decided he liked it. Staring up at Sirius with a smile, Harry placed his hands on Sirius' hips, his fingers digging into Sirius' sweaty skin in anticipation of what was to come. Sirius lowered himself and captured Harry's lips in a searing kiss, his long, black hair curtaining both their faces and tickling Harry's cheeks.

"Relax, Padfoot," Remus whispered, and Harry felt Remus' prick nudge its way inside, pressing against his own cock hard. 

"God," he gasped against Sirius' mouth. Sirius groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing ragged breaths against Harry's cheeks.

"Oh, wow, that's brilliant," Harry sighed when Remus was buried inside Sirius completely. Harry rocked his hips up once and moaned at the feeling of Sirius' arse gripping tightly around his cock and Remus' prick rubbing against his at the same time. 

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius and pushed him down on top of Harry before he set a slow rhythm with his hips. Harry met it and gasped for breath as his cock slid in and out of Sirius alongside Remus'.

"Bloody hell," Sirius groaned, his hands curling around Harry's shoulders. 

"Good?" Remus asked. 

"Yeah," both Sirius and Harry replied. They grinned at each other and then Harry pulled Sirius' head down for another kiss, letting Remus guide his cock in and out of Sirius' tight channel. 

It felt like nothing Harry had ever felt before. Harry loved fucking either Sirius or Remus, but this was even better, to fuck Sirius together with Remus. They fit perfectly inside Sirius, Harry thought and then silently snickered at his own soppiness. Remus kept their pace slow for a long time, and they fucked Sirius in deep thrusts until Sirius begged them to go harder and faster.

Harry met Remus' quickening thrusts with sharp jerks of his hips and suddenly he felt Sirius stiffen between them as he spurted his hot release on Harry's belly, rubbing it against their sweat-slick skin.

"Fuck, don't stop," Sirius gasped against Harry's cheek, and Harry bucked his hips up extra hard, drawing a groan from Remus and a soft cry from Sirius.

"Almost there," Remus moaned and thrust faster. Harry let go of what little control he had and buried his nose into Sirius' damp hair, inhaling deeply. Basking in Sirius' scent and still marvelling at the feeling of Remus' cock sliding against his inside Sirius' body, Harry bit his lip and climaxed. As he shot his seed inside Sirius, Harry felt Remus come as well, his release slick and warm around Harry's cock. 

"Holy fuck," Harry moaned, stilling his hips and gasping for breath when both Sirius and Remus slumped down on top of him. Remus pulled out of Sirius gently and Harry felt his sated cock slip out of Sirius as well.

"I'm going to need a bloody healing spell if I want to be able to sit tomorrow," Sirius muttered as Remus lay down beside Harry. Sirius rolled off Harry and stretched out on Harry's other side, one arm hooked above his head and his other hand stroking his spent prick.

Remus snorted and kissed Harry's shoulder. All Harry could do was grin, feeling relaxed and utterly satisfied. Then he turned his face to Sirius, regarding him for a moment. 

"You really don't have to be jealous," he whispered, stroking Sirius' chest. 

Sirius shrugged. "I know. It's just...it's bloody annoying when this good-looking bloke fawns over you."

"Ah! So you think he's good-looking."

Sirius raised his head and glared at Harry. "All right. So he's good-looking...for a corpse."

Harry slapped Sirius' chest and then pulled away when Sirius tried to grab his wrists. 

"Can we just get some sleep, please?" Remus asked, half-covered by Harry's squirming body. Harry laughed and pushed Sirius back, settling between their warm bodies. Remus pulled up the sheets and Harry snuggled against Sirius, Remus curling around his back. It didn't take long until he fell asleep.


	14. Chapter 13

The next day, Sirius tempted Harry and Remus to a snowball fight in the yard, and after he'd beaten them both, he excused himself to prepare their Christmas dinner. Singing 'Jingle Balls' at the top of his lungs, Sirius bustled around the kitchen, and Harry helped him out where he could, chopping vegetables and melting butter for Sirius' special gravy. 

Remus sat at the kitchen table surrounded by books, scribbling things down in preparation for that evening's research on the nature of vampirism.

Pushing himself up onto the counter, his legs dangling off the side, Harry watched as Sirius mixed the stuffing for the turkey. 

"Um...you might want to skip that part," Harry said when Sirius spelled a knife to chop a few cloves of garlic. Sirius frowned, rolled his eyes and threw the garlic in the trash bin. 

"That bloody stiff had better appreciate a custom-made dish," Sirius muttered. "He doesn't even have to eat."

Harry shared an amused smile with Remus. "Did you find anything yet?" he asked. Remus shook his head. 

"To be honest, I haven't an idea where to start looking for things about vampirism. All that these books say are obvious things about how one gets infected or how to kill a vampire. There's nothing about what exactly vampires are." Remus heaved a tired sigh. 

"But doesn't the same go for werewolves?" Harry asked.

Remus looked up from his books and slid off his reading glasses, rubbing his eyes. "I suppose it does. What we know about werewolves comes from werewolves who have researched their condition."

Harry frowned and suddenly he remembered something. "You know, at the start of my year, Firenze told me he could tell my aura had changed."

Snapping his head up, Remus stared at Harry. "Of course," he said, pushed himself up and rushed out of the kitchen. Harry glanced at Sirius, who shrugged and stuffed a handful of something inside the turkey.

A couple of minutes later, Remus returned, slightly out of breath, with four more books in his arms. "There are spells to show a person's aura," he said to no one in particular. "If we can compare Ivan's aura to ours and those of complete humans, we might be able to see a few significant differences." Remus seated himself and opened one of the books. 

Sirius placed the turkey in the oven and closed the oven door. "You want to play some cards?" he asked Harry, who nodded in reply. They sat down at the other end of the table and played a few of the wizarding card games Sirius had taught Harry that summer until the turkey was done and their guests were about to arrive. 

Just when Sirius levitated the turkey to the table, the doorbell rang and Harry followed Remus to welcome their guests. After Remus opened the door, Snape pushed his way inside, ignoring them both. Bill followed, giving Harry an amused smile. Then Patrick stepped inside and Harry noticed he wasn't wearing jeans for a change, but plain brown trousers and a light jumper. Ivan was the last one to enter, and Harry could stop his mouth from dropping open just in time. 

Instead of his usual leather trousers and white shirt, Ivan wore a black Muggle suit with a collarless black shirt beneath it and his hair was tied back. 

"Happy Christmas, puppy," Ivan said, and grabbed Harry's chin, pressing a cool kiss to his mouth. 

Remus cleared his throat and ignored Ivan's snort. Harry just stood frozen to the spot for a moment and then stared at the ceiling uncomfortably. 

"Happy Christmas, Harry," Bill said, and ruffled Harry's hair. 

"Um...yeah...Happy Christmas, all," Harry mumbled. Patrick winked at him and gave the back of Harry's neck a little squeeze, which relaxed Harry enough to get his limbs working again. 

"I suggest we go down to the kitchen," Remus said. Harry watched as everyone followed Remus, and he took a deep breath before he walked down the steps himself. 

"I thought you'd appreciate a bottle like this," Patrick said, handing Sirius a bottle of Ogden's firewhiskey. 

"I certainly do. Thanks," Sirius said, managing a smile. 

"And if I remembered correctly, you'll like this," Patrick said, and handed a bottle to a surprised Remus. 

"Gin," Remus said, amused. "I haven't had that in a long time. Thank you."

"Gin?" Sirius asked. "Moony, you old queen."

"I'll have you know that gin and tonic is a very masculine drink, thanks ever so much," Remus said, and then looked at their guests. "Please, have a seat."

"I'm not here for any festive activities," Snape said, scowling. He poked a stained finger at Ivan's chest. "I'm only here for a few samples."

Ivan narrowed his eyes and slapped Snape's hand away. "This is Armani, batboy. It costs more than you make in a year. Keep your filthy fingers off it."

"I don't care what it is or what it costs. I'm here for samples," Snape snarled. Ivan growled, briefly flashing his fangs, but then Patrick put a leather bag on the table. 

"We've got your samples right here, Mr Snape," he said, and started unloading the bag, placing several glass bottles on the table, all filled with blood and clearly labelled. 

"Fledgling, fifty-year-old vampire, hundred-year-old vampire and myself," Ivan drawled, gesturing towards the bottles.

"Weasley will inform me of the outcome of your further research." Snape scooped the bottles up in his arms. "Where can I reach you?" he asked, glaring at Ivan. 

Popping the button of his jacket open, Ivan reached inside and pulled out a business card. "You can reach me on my mobile phone," he said, offering the card to Snape.

Snape stared at it blankly. 

"Or you can owl me at the Hog's Head and I'll pass any messages on to him," Patrick said, trying not to laugh. 

"Fine. Good day." And with that, Snape stalked out of the kitchen. They heard the front door slam shut a moment later. 

"I wouldn't mind draining him a bit," Ivan said, wrinkling his nose. "Rude bastard."

"You know, you're not so bad," Sirius said, grinning. Ivan gave him a winning smile and sat down at the table beside Patrick. Bill sank down in the chair next to Ivan and Harry joined Remus across from them. After Sirius was done levitating all the dishes to the table, he sat down on Harry's other side and winced slightly.

"Did they give it to you good last night, dogboy?" Ivan asked, an amused smirk tugging on his lips. 

"You can say that again," Sirius muttered. Harry glanced up and noticed Bill's wide-eyed look, darting between him, Sirius and Remus. 

"Um..." Harry said, at a loss as to how to explain everything to Bill. 

"No, it's all right, Harry," Bill said. "Actually, this does explain a lot. Mum insisted that Sirius and Remus were a couple the other day while I thought Remus and you were together."

"Yeah," Harry said. "It's a...well, it's not really a long story, but it just kind of happened last summer."

"Cool," Bill said, and gave them all a warm smile. 

Sirius was about to say something when a shrill, beeping noise sounded through the kitchen. Ivan reached inside his jacket and pulled out a silver-coloured mobile phone, which he flipped open and held to his ear. 

"Yeah?...Yeah, it's me....No, not tonight...I'm having dinner...With mortals....No, not on mortals. With mortals...Yes, my wolf is here as well...It's a private party, Duncan...I don't think I'll make it...Are you becoming deaf? Have the maggots finally started feasting on your brain?...No?...Then listen. You won't win it back...Not tonight and not ever, Duncan...Face it, you suck at poker...Fine, if you want to lose more money, I'll see you tomorrow...Yeah, Soho is good...Ciao."

Ivan closed his phone, tucked it away and then glanced up at everyone else. "Duncan. He's a friend. The poor sod got turned when he was sixteen. He'll spend eternity with acne and on top of that, he's a lousy poker player." 

"You play poker?" Sirius asked, and Harry recognized the look on his face as being the one Sirius always wore when he felt challenged. 

"I do, dogboy. Care for a game later?"

"He's a cheat," Patrick said, giving Ivan in innocent smile. Ivan inhaled an offended breath. "You'll never win from him because he'll cheat his way through any game."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "We'll see about that."

"Just keep your gold ready, dogboy. I'll be leaving with it tonight."

"Turkey, anyone?" Remus asked, breaking the teasing tension between Sirius and Ivan. 

"Aye. I could eat a nun's arse through a convent gate," Patrick said, raising his plate so Remus could slip a slice of turkey on it. 

Ivan looked thoughtful. "You know, I think I did that once, back in the sixteenth century."

Harry snickered and both Sirius and Bill snorted with laughter. Patrick just gave Ivan a very tired look. They proceeded to fill their plates with slices of turkey, mashed potatoes and all the different kinds of vegetables Sirius had cooked. 

Harry loaded his fork full and took a generous bite, savouring the taste of good, home-cooked food.

"Puppy, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Ivan said, cutting his slice of turkey with care. "Where did you get that scar?"

Choking on a few peas, Harry glanced at Sirius and Remus. He cleared his throat a few times and then took a sip of his wine. "Voldemort gave it to me when I was a child. He tried to kill me. After he killed my parents."

Ivan lowered his fork. "Sorry to hear that, puppy. It wasn't my intention to bring up such unpleasant memories this evening."

"It's all right." Harry shrugged. "I don't really remember it, anyway."

"No need to be sad, really," Ivan said. When Harry gave him a confused look, he added, "About your parents. Death isn't such an awful place."

Harry frowned. "It wasn't exactly pleasant either. Just dark and...sticky."

"That isn't death, puppy. That's just the twilight. The land in between life and death."

"You seem to know an awful lot about it," Remus asked, intrigued. 

"I've died, haven't I?" Ivan scooped some broccoli and a few peas onto his fork. "Death lies beyond the twilight, puppy. You glimpsed it, I think."

"I suppose." Harry sipped his wine again. 

"Wait...you died, lad?" Patrick asked, frowning. 

"Um...yeah. I kind of gave myself a heart attack after the full moon once, when I tried to play Quidditch and took a bit too much Pepperup."

Patrick stilled his hand, his fork hovering in the air halfway to his mouth. He looked at Remus. 

"That was Harry's own fault. He disregarded my warnings that day," Remus said, narrowing his eyes at Harry. 

"So that's what happened," Bill mused. "This is a most interesting dinner so far. I finally learn what's really going on." 

"Now that everyone's baring their souls, why don't you tell us how you ended up shagging the stiff, Bill," Sirius said, grinning at Bill. 

"Short story. I offered him shelter in a tomb I was working in, but I didn't want to leave him alone all day with the treasure there, so I stayed." Bill nodded in Ivan's direction. "Well, you've all seen how eager he can be. I accepted the invitation."

"How eager he can be," Ivan muttered, glaring at Bill. "I don't offer myself to just anyone, you know."

"No, not just anyone," Patrick said teasingly. "Only about two-thirds of the world's population."

Ivan stuck his tongue out at Patrick, who happily ignored it and took a bite of potato. 

"Okay, now I have a question for you two," Harry said. "You're a couple, right? And I know how territorial werewolves can be. Do you just let him shag other blokes?" Harry looked at Patrick curiously. 

"Oh, now my reputation is done for," Ivan said, putting his fork down and reaching for his wine. 

Patrick laughed. "Ivan hasn't shagged anyone but me since that day he showed up on my doorstep. He's just...an enormous flirt."

"I'll just go and slit my wrists now," Ivan said. 

"That won't do the trick, love," Patrick supplied helpfully. 

Harry snorted with laughter. Beside him, Sirius was choking on his turkey and Remus chuckled into his wine. 

"You are shredding my poor heart to pieces," Ivan whined, but his narrowed, gleaming eyes betrayed his amusement. Then he looked at Harry. "Tell me, puppy. Are you the bottom in your little love triangle?"

"Um...no, I don't think so." Harry glanced up at Remus, unsure of what he was exactly. 

"We take turns," Remus said. 

"Yep. We like it any which way we can get it," Sirius agreed.

"And what about you, Bill?" Remus asked. "Have you met anyone interesting since you broke up with Fleur?"

"You had a girlfriend?" Ivan asked curiously. 

"Part Veela, too." Sirius said.

"My, my, Billy. You sure like to poke your wanger in non-humans, don't you?" Ivan said, giving Bill a sly smile. 

Bill's cheeks coloured crimson. "I guess my record speaks against me here, but I don't seek non-humans out. They just happen upon me, really."

"Of course. And I'm the Queen of England," Ivan said, unimpressed.

"You're a queen of something, all right," Bill said, his grin daring. Ivan leaned closer to Bill and bared his fangs. Bill pushed him away playfully. 

"You still haven't answered my question," Remus said. 

Bill took a deep breath. "No, haven't met anyone interesting. Not anyone who's not already taken, anyway."

"And who is he going to shag, being stuck in that castle?" Sirius offered. 

"Snape," Remus said evenly. 

Sirius, who'd just taken a sip of his wine, sprayed his mouthful across the table, little red drops now covering Patrick's jumper. 

"Batboy?" Ivan asked, wrinkling his nose. "Please, Billy, you have better taste than that. You shagged me, remember?"

Harry was laughing so hard he had to drop his knife and fork to wrap his arms around his chest.

"I'm not shagging Snape," Bill countered, a bit too quickly. 

"Not yet, perhaps," Remus said vaguely and continued eating without looking at Bill. 

"Sorry about that," Sirius said, and flicked his wand, muttering a quick 'Scourgify' at Patrick's jumper. 

"Don't worry about it," Patrick said. "I'm used to red stains on my clothing, courtesy of Ivan's tuskers."

Sirius tilted his head curiously. "Talking about those snappers. Do you let him suck you at all? I wouldn't want them anywhere near my privates, that's for sure."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "I'll have you know I'm perfectly capable of blowing a penis without cutting it to pieces."

"He is," Patrick said. "Although it took me a while before I let him anywhere near my cock with those fangs."

"He was so scared I'd scratch his precious prick," Ivan said, amused.

"Bloody right I was," Patrick muttered. 

"Of course, then he learned what an advantage it is I don't have to breathe. After that, his worries were quickly dealt with, right, love?"

Patrick nodded. "Best blow job I've ever had."

Sirius still looked doubtful, but Harry felt intrigued. Of course, he tried not to show it and busied himself with finishing his food. 

"Remus, since you were so eager to hear about my preferences," Bill said, folding his hands and looking at Remus innocently, "Who would you shag of the Order? Hypothetically speaking, of course."

Remus lowered his fork and frowned for a moment. "Actually, I'm already shagging the men I'm interested in," he said, nodding in Harry's and Sirius' direction. 

"Oh, come on," Bill urged. "That answer's too easy, Lupin."

"Yeah, Moony," Sirius agreed, glancing at Remus around Harry. "Let's hear a few of your secrets."

"All right. I'd shag Kingsley. And Tonks. Perhaps together."

Sirius' mouth dropped open, and Remus smiled a very satisfied smile. 

"Kingsley?" Ivan asked, confused. "Is he the ponce who tied me up?" Harry nodded. "Oh, yes, I can definitely see that. He has very strong hands," Ivan mused. 

"And you, Harry? Who would you shag?" Bill asked. 

Harry felt heat rising to his cheeks and he reached for his wine, taking a healthy sip before he answered. "I dunno...maybe Fred and George."

Bill laughed and Remus nodded approvingly. Sirius on the other hand gave Harry a suspicious glare.

"How about you, Sirius?" Harry asked in an attempt to direct the attention away from himself. 

"Only hypothetically speaking, right?" Sirius frowned, and then looked up at Bill. "I'd shag you."

Bill's cheeks flushed, but he managed a smile. "Why, thank you, Mr Black."

"Anytime, Bill," Sirius said with a smug grin. 

"You've got good taste, dogboy," Ivan said, leaning his head on Bill's shoulder. "Billy's a lovely shag."

"Okay, that's quite enough," Bill muttered, pushing Ivan off. "How about you, Patrick?"

Patrick shrugged and then glanced up at Remus with a sly smile. "I've already shagged the bloke I'd be interested in."

Bill's eyes widened. "Oh...you two..."

"A long time ago," Remus said. Harry saw him tense for a moment, but then Remus gave both Bill and Patrick a smile. "But I do believe we're better off as friends."

"Aye," Patrick agreed. 

Ivan nudged Bill with his elbow. "It's just like Eastenders, Billy. Everyone's done the whole cast." When Bill looked at him in confusion, Ivan shrugged. "You should watch the telly more often."

"You're forgetting these are wizards, love," Patrick said. "They don't have a telly. Besides, they don't have time to laze about in front of it all day, watching the soaps."

Bill still appeared confused, but then he turned to Ivan. "And what about you?"

"Me?" Ivan asked, placing a graceful hand on his chest. "Well, I'd shag everyone at this table, to start with. You know, perhaps we could give that a try later. Have a little Christmas orgy."

"Shut it, Ivan."

"You are no fun," Ivan said, glaring at Patrick. 

"Perhaps it's time for afters," Remus suggested. 

"Bloody hell," Sirius muttered. "I forgot the pudding."

"No sweets?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too disappointed. 

"Sorry, mate. We'll just have to get drunk instead," Sirius said, slinging his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulling him close. 

"That's going to be an interesting objective, with three werewolves," Remus said. When Bill looked at him questioningly, he added, "We don't get drunk. Our metabolism works too fast for that."

"So that's your secret," Ivan mused, glancing at Patrick. "I've always wondered why you could drink me under the table." Patrick's grin was quite smug. 

"Do you get drunk?" Harry asked Ivan, who nodded. 

"Oh yes. I can even get drunk second-handedly. It's a cheap way of clubbing. I just dine on a few mortals who've seen the bottom of the bottle and I'm set for the whole night."

Harry chuckled but Sirius stared at Ivan with narrowed eyes. "So you just kill those people when you feed off them?"

Ivan shook his head. "Oh no, not anymore. It's all about the hunt. The seduction. When I have them, I take what I need and send them on their merry way."

"How much do you need to survive?" Remus asked. 

"Not that much," Ivan said. "About the equivalent of one mortal a week. So if I snack a bit every night, together with what I take from Patrick, I'm doing fine."

"And no one runs to the authorities to report you?" Remus wondered. 

"First, who would believe them?" Ivan said, leaning back in his chair. "Second, they all come back for more. In fact, they line up to let me have a sip of them."

"Because it feels good, right?" Harry said softly, remembering what Ivan had told them during their class. 

"Exactly, puppy. They cream their trousers every time I sink my fangs into their throat."

Sirius still looked as if he were having trouble believing a word Ivan was saying. 

"I could show you," Ivan offered. Patrick snorted but Ivan waved it away quickly. "Not like that. Take you clubbing, I mean. Tonight."

"That wouldn't be safe," Remus said, and Harry, who'd perked up at Ivan's offer, sank back in his chair. "There are too many people after Harry. Not to mention that Sirius is still a wanted criminal."

"Darling," Ivan said, leaning forward to look Remus in his eyes. "I own the club. You have my word as a Master Vampire that all of you will be completely safe. No wizards enter that club unless I let them."

"You own a club," Harry said, awed and then looked between Sirius and Remus. "Can we, please? I've never been clubbing."

Sirius seemed tempted, but Remus still looked doubtful. Harry tried his best puppy eyes on him and Remus' lips tugged up into a smile. Then he looked at Ivan. "You can guarantee us there will be no wizards but us there?"

"My kin hate wizards, remember? We don't want them snooping about our night time activities. You'll be there as my guests, so you'll be welcome. Any other magicians trying to enter won't get past my guards at the door."

Remus glanced at Sirius. "What do you think?"

"It would be good to get out of this bloody house for a change," Sirius said. 

"All right." Remus nodded, and Harry let out a victorious cry. "But first I want to do a few spells. And I suspect you'll be wanting to open your presents, Harry."

Harry had completely forgotten about the presents. "Yes," he said eagerly. 

"Then I suggest we move our party to the drawing room." Sirius rose from his chair, and the rest followed his example.

"You up for a bit of a dance, Billy?" Ivan asked as they climbed the stairs to the hallway. 

"I most certainly am. Beats playing Exploding Snap with Ron and Ginny at the Burrow."

Inside the drawing room, Patrick, Ivan and Bill lowered themselves to the couch while Sirius sat down in one of the leather chairs and pulled Harry onto his lap. Remus picked up a book from the desk and paged through it as he joined them in front of the fireplace. 

"There is a spell that shows a person's aura," he explained, glancing at Ivan. "I was hoping it would give us a bit more insight to what vampirism is. May I cast it on you?"

Ivan shifted on the couch. "I'd be a lot more comfortable if Patrick cast it. Can you, love?"

Patrick dug his wand from the pocket of his trousers and gestured for Remus to hand him the book. Remus pointed out the correct spell and Patrick practiced the wand movement a few times before he pointed his wand at Ivan. 

"It won't hurt a bit, love," he said, winking at Ivan. "Videre Coraura." 

Just as Remus dimmed the candles around them to darken the room, Ivan's body was suddenly surrounded by a colourful glow. 

"Wow," Harry gasped, leaning back against Sirius. "That looks amazing."

Ivan moved his arm through the air, his eyes wide as he looked at the white and yellow glow, filled with thin black lines that twirled around each other.

"Good," Remus said. "Can I cast it on you two as well, so we can compare it?" he asked, looking at Patrick and Bill. They both nodded, and after a few flicks of Remus' wand, Patrick and Bill were glowing as well. 

"Now I have to figure out what the differences are," Remus muttered, taking the book back from Patrick and leafing through it while he sat down on the armrest of the couch. 

"Oh, those must be your two souls," he said, looking up at Patrick, who was staring at his own glowing hands in awe. "The soul...um...twirls in your aura, and in your case you can see the two colours." Remus indicated the black and golden lines spinning through each other in the white light of Patrick's aura. 

"Now, let's see...Bill...ah, yes, you have only one soul." Bill's shining aura was filled with a soft yellow line that moved around him. "So what does this say about Ivan?"

They all looked at Ivan and silence filled the room for a moment. 

"He's only got one soul," Patrick said, dragging his fingers through Ivan's aura. 

"But it isn't one line," Harry whispered, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the short black lines around Ivan. "It looks split."

Everyone turned to look at Harry before they all looked back at Ivan, who was studying his own hands. "It does look split, doesn't it?" he mused, curling and uncurling his fingers in front of him. 

"That could be it," Remus said, his voice filled with excitement. "That would explain a lot, actually. How you can be alive and dead at the same time. Why your blood, your infection is lethal to my kind."

Harry frowned. "I'm not following you."

Remus turned to look at him. "If vampirism forces the soul to split, then it would force a werewolf's joined souls to break up, which will kill a werewolf. It makes perfect sense."

"Oh," Harry said, trying wrap his mind around it. "But where is the rest of his soul?"

"Now that's the question, isn't it, puppy?" Ivan said. "My bet is that half of me is dead."

"You mean that half of you exists inside life and the other half exists inside death?" Remus asked quietly. 

Ivan nodded. "After I died, when I came back, I wasn't alive like I'd been before. I wasn't dead, either. It's a little bit of both."

"So what is different?" Harry asked.

"For one, I don't sleep anymore."

"Of course you sleep," Patrick said, frowning. 

"No, love, I rest. It's not the same as sleeping. I don't dream."

"What happens when you rest?" Harry whispered. 

"I go to the dark and sticky place, puppy," Ivan said, looking at Harry for a moment before lowering his gaze, his face a guarded mask. 

Remus had grabbed a quill and parchment and was writing everything down.

"There are many tales about journeys to and from the afterlife in ancient Egyptian mythology," Bill said. "I'll look them up."

"Yes, good," Remus said. Then he lowered his quill. "I think that's enough for one evening. We'll look into this, Ivan."

"Sure, darling. Now, can you turn it off again? I hate being more decorative than the bloody Christmas tree."

A few Finite Incantatums later, Bill, Patrick and Ivan were back to normal, and Sirius nudged Harry off his lap. 

"Go open your presents."

Harry crawled to the Christmas tree and looked at the colourfully-wrapped presents. He picked the largest, pulled it out from under the tree and tore the wrappings off to find a big, cardboard box. He flipped the top open, peered inside and saw a pile of new clothes. 

"That's the practical present," Sirius said, almost apologetically.

"It's great," Harry said. And he meant it, since his robes were all a bit too short and all the Muggle clothing he had were the hand-me-downs from Dudley. He pulled the clothes out one by one, examining them carefully. There were new robes, jeans, T-shirts, jumpers and boxers. Since the summer, Harry'd started to wear boxers instead of Y-fronts, but he'd used Sirius' old ones. He was quite happy to finally have his own. 

"Thanks. I really needed this," he said, and gave both Sirius and Remus a wide smile. 

"Open that one." Sirius pointed at a small present to Harry's right. Harry grabbed it, pulled the wrapping off and stared at a black leather dog collar and leash, his cheeks flushing. 

"That was his idea," Remus said, pointing an accusing finger at Sirius, who laughed and slapped his thigh.

"That is so kinky, puppy," Ivan drawled, licking his lips. Beside him, both Patrick and Bill were snorting with laughter. 

Harry glared at Sirius, but Sirius' amusement was infectious and Harry couldn't help snickering while he examined the collar. "Very funny," he said, and placed the items on top of his pile of clothes. 

"Open your last one," Remus said. "But be careful with it. It's breakable." 

Curious, Harry carefully picked up his last present and unwrapped it. As the small bowl with shining silver liquid was revealed, Harry's mouth dropped open. "A Pensieve," he whispered, staring up at Sirius and Remus, slightly confused. 

"Yeah. We figured that way we can show you a couple of good memories of your mum and dad," Sirius said. 

"Do you like it?" Remus asked. 

"Um...yeah," Harry replied, feeling oddly choked up. "It's brilliant. Thanks." He got up and placed the Pensieve on the desk, looking forward to seeing a few happy memories from his lovers' past, instead of the flashes he'd seen during his Legilimency lessons.

"Now I want my present," Sirius said. Harry spun around on his feet, suddenly realizing what he'd bought his lovers and how that might be received by their guests. 

"Um...okay, but you three have to promise to keep quiet,." Harry pointed his finger at Ivan,. "Especially you."

Ivan blinked and smiled innocently. "I'll be quiet as a mouse, puppy. Promise."

Harry glared at him for good measure and then picked up the box and handed it to Sirius. "It's for you both. It's...um...a personal gift, sort of."

"All right. Moony, come here." Sirius tapped his thigh and Remus sat down on it so they could both unwrap their present. While they did so, Harry bit his lip, glancing between them and their guests. 

"Oh," Sirius said after he'd pulled open the box. His eyes widened and then he grinned at Harry. "Very personal."

"Indeed," Remus said, a small blush creeping up his cheeks. "Lovely, though."

On the couch, Ivan was shifting restlessly, his lips pursed while he strained his neck, trying to see over the rim of the box. 

"Ivan, breathe," Patrick said. "You look as if you're about to burst."

"I don't have to breathe," Ivan muttered. "Come on, show us what you've got."

"Sshh," Harry said, glaring at him, and Ivan ran his fingers across his lips, as if to zip his mouth shut. 

Sirius ever so slowly reached into the box and pulled out the black blindfold, followed by the magical handcuffs. 

"Sweet Mary and Joseph, you expect me to keep quiet when you give them something like that?" Ivan whined. 

"You promised!" Harry growled, narrowing his eyes. 

Patrick had clapped a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh, and Ivan scowled darkly at Harry. 

"Do you like it?" Harry asked softly. 

"Do you have to ask?" Sirius countered, examining the nipple clamps. "Hell yes, we like it, Harry. What do you say we stay home, kick our guests out and fool around with our new toys?"

"Sounds tempting, but I really want to go clubbing," Harry said, shrugging. 

"All right. We can play later, Padfoot." Remus replaced the book on gay sex in the box. "There are quite a few interesting things I saw in that book I want to try."

Sirius, who had attached the nipple clamp on the tip of one of his fingers and was waving it around, looking rather pained, nodded. "Fine. Later it is." He put everything back into the box and looked up at Ivan and Patrick. "How do you want to do this?"

"First, you'll need to change," Ivan said. "You can't go clubbing in those dresses."

"They're called robes," Sirius growled. 

"Whatever. Normal clothing, please. A pair of jeans and a shirt will do nicely."

"Then I guess I'd better apparate back to the Burrow," Bill said, looking at the black robes he was wearing. 

"Nah, don't bother, mate. I've got a pair of jeans that should fit you," Sirius said. He and Remus got up while Harry selected jeans and a white T-shirt from his pile of new clothes.

"Don't bother with any winter wear," Ivan said as they made their way out of the drawing room. "It's hot where we're going."

Harry trotted up the stairs, followed by Sirius, Remus and Bill, and when they reached their bedroom, Sirius pulled out jeans and a shirt for Bill and they changed out of their robes and into their Muggle clothing quickly. When they returned to the drawing room, they found Patrick explaining to Ivan what the Pensieve was and how it worked. 

"This better?" Sirius asked. Ivan looked him over and then nodded. 

"Perfect, dogboy."

"How are we going to this club?" Remus asked. 

"Apparition. You can follow me," Patrick replied. "We can apparate right to the door of the club."

"Hang on a moment, love," Ivan said and then picked up the leather dog collar. He strode to Harry, who wondered what the hell Ivan was up to now. "Trust me, puppy. This will look smashing on you."

While Harry stiffened slightly, Ivan clicked the dog collar open and attached it around Harry's throat, his cool fingers brushing across Harry's flushed skin. Then Ivan curled his fingers in Harry's already tousled hair and mussed it up even further. 

"Gorgeous," Ivan said, stepping back to look at Harry. 

Harry felt very self-conscious with the collar around his neck, but when he saw both Sirius and Remus nodding their approval, he smiled and figured it might look cool after all. 

"Can you apparate Ivan?" Bill asked Patrick, who nodded.

"He's dead, isn't he? I can apparate him as easily as a sack of potatoes."

"Thanks, love," Ivan said, rolling his eyes.

"Harry, listen," Remus said, grabbing Harry's hand. "I want you to stay close to us the entire time and if there's any kind of trouble I want you to apparate back here immediately, all right?"

"Yeah, okay," Harry said, feeling a bit embarrassed about being told what to do in front of their guests. 

"Relax, wolfie," Ivan said to Remus. "Where we're going, everyone will be looking out for the puppy. What's mine will be looked after by my kin."

Harry wasn't sure what Ivan meant, but he decided not to ask since he wanted to go before Remus or Sirius changed their minds.

"This is just tagging along, like we practiced last summer," Sirius said, reaching for Harry's other hand. 

"Yeah, I know it. I got my license, didn't I?" Harry said impatiently.

"Ready, lad?" Patrick asked. Ivan had wrapped his arms around Patrick's neck and was standing close to him. Patrick was holding Bill's and Remus' hands. 

"Ready," Harry said and closed his eyes, concentrating on getting his body to apparate wherever Patrick would lead them. He felt the slight pull and the odd sensation of the world shifting around him, and the air surrounding him was suddenly freezing. He opened his eyes and saw that they had landed in what looked like a dimly-lit alley. 

"We made it," Ivan said, and strode to a door guarded by two enormous blokes. The churn in Harry's stomach told him they were vampires. 

"Evening, Master," the vampires said, bowing their heads. 

"Evening, Robert, Michael." Ivan nodded his head in the direction of Harry and the rest. "These are my wolves and my mortals. Make sure no harm comes to them."

"Of course, Master," the vampires replied with another nod of their heads, and they opened the door for Ivan. 

"Well, come on," Ivan said, and waved them all over. "Time to party."

Remus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry grabbed Sirius' arm, feeling just a bit nervous. They followed Ivan inside a dark hallway and when Ivan pushed a set of double doors open, they were suddenly surrounded by loud music and met by the sight of a large dance club, crowded with people. 

But Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his legs threatening to give way. His skin was crawling and his breath caught in his throat, his instincts screaming to get out of there. 

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, looking from Harry to Remus, who also looked faintly ill. 

"Vampires," Harry mumbled, feeling as if he might be sick. 

Suddenly, there was a warm hand curling around the back of his neck. "Relax, both of you," Patrick said to Harry and Remus. "You trust me. You trust Ivan. You'll be safe here. These vampires won't touch you."

Harry glanced up at Patrick and gave him a weak smile. "Yeah," he said, inhaling deep, calming breaths. "I know that."

"You all right, puppy?" Ivan asked. When Harry nodded, Ivan grabbed his hand and dragged him inside the club in the direction of the bar. "Drinks are on me tonight," Ivan said, pulling off his jacket and handing it to a vampire behind the bar. "What are you having, puppy?"

"Um..." Harry said. "I dunno."

"How about a screwdriver?"

Harry nodded, at a complete loss as to what a screwdriver was, but it sounded interesting enough. Sirius, Remus and Bill had joined them, with Patrick settling down on a stool in front of the bar. 

"Order anything you like," Ivan said to them, his voice raised just a bit to be heard over the loud music. "Just don't get a Bloody Mary. We take those quite literally in here."

Bill laughed and ordered beers for him, Sirius and Remus. Ivan handed Harry what looked like a glass of orange juice, but when Harry took a sip he realized there was definitely alcohol in it. Smiling at Ivan, he sipped some more and decided he liked it. 

"Ivan!" A young man, dressed in jeans and a bright Hawaiian shirt bounced up to them. "Dude, you made it!"

"Duncan," Ivan said. "Meet my friends."

Duncan smiled at all of them, flashing a pair of fangs. "Far out."

Harry couldn't help but be reminded of Colin Creevey, and he was trying to decide if that was a good thing or not when Duncan extended a hand. Harry shook it. 

"Hey, dude. The name's Duncan."

"Um...hi. I'm Harry."

"Awesome. You want to go swing?"

Harry glanced first at Sirius and Remus and then at Ivan. "I'm not much of a dancer," he mumbled. Truth was, he'd never danced before, besides the brief fiasco at the Yule Ball in his fifth year. 

"Go on, puppy. Have a dance," Ivan said, taking Harry's drink from him and giving Harry a gentle nudge in the back. Duncan grabbed his hand and before Harry or anyone else could protest, Duncan dragged Harry with him to the crowded dance floor.

"Just follow my moves, dude," Duncan said, and pressed himself up against Harry, placing his hands on Harry's hips. Harry stiffened when he felt Duncan's groin against his own, but when he glanced around he saw that most people around them were dancing in such an intimate way. Women with women, men with women and men with men. Forcing himself to relax, he tentatively put his hands on Duncan's shoulders. 

"So you're Ivan's buddy, eh?" Duncan asked. Harry nodded. "That's cool, dude."

Harry managed a small smile but he gulped when Duncan pressed closer and started moving his hips against Harry's. Trying to follow Duncan's moves, Harry studied Duncan's face. Whatever Ivan had said about his acne was mostly exaggerated, and Duncan had clear blue eyes and honey-blond hair that fell into them. He wasn't much taller than Harry and surely didn't look older than him, although Harry expected Duncan was in fact a couple of years his senior. If not centuries. 

"This is fun, eh?"

"Yeah," Harry said, now having less trouble meeting Duncan's rhythm. He was having fun, he realized. Dancing wasn't so bad. They moved together to the beat of the music, a Muggle song Harry didn't recognize, and Harry glanced around on occasion. A wild mix of vampires and humans moved around them and it all seemed to be in good fun, just as Ivan had said.

When Harry started to feel a bit tired, Duncan smiled at him and stopped moving. "Let's go for a drink, dude."

"Yeah, I'm quite thirsty," Harry said, and followed Duncan back to the bar, wiping at his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. Ivan gave him a wide grin and handed him his drink, and Harry drained it in one long gulp. Before he could ask for more, Ivan already pressed a full glass into his hands. 

"Did you have fun?" Remus asked. 

"Yeah, that was cool," Harry said. He saw Bill chatting with a young woman and she seemed quite human. Harry also couldn't help noticing the rather large breasts bulging out of the tight shirt she was wearing. He heard Sirius snickering beside him. 

"If you're going to stare, Harry, try to do it a bit less obviously," Sirius whispered in Harry's ear. Harry felt his cheeks flush and he chuckled. 

"This seems like an all right place, doesn't it?" Remus asked. Sirius nodded his agreement. 

"Yeah," Harry said. He couldn't believe he was out clubbing with Sirius and Remus. And that he was drinking a screwdriver, whatever the hell that was, and that he'd danced very closely with a vampire of all things. He was having a very good time and he gave both Sirius and Remus a grateful smile. 

"Are you ready to dance with a master?" Ivan whispered in Harry's ear. Harry shrugged and nodded, and let Ivan lead him to the dance floor. 

"It's just like shagging, puppy, with our clothes on." Ivan placed one hand on Harry's lower back and the other one on Harry's arse and pulled him very close. Then he started to move his hips, slowly at first but soon his movements became rougher. Hooking his arms around Ivan's neck, Harry tried to meet his moves, feeling awkward and just a bit aroused. 

"You're doing perfectly, puppy," Ivan said, and Harry answered him with a smile. Ivan's body felt hard and cool and the beat of the music seemed hypnotic, and Harry just went with it, letting Ivan sway him around. 

"Mind if I cut in, mate?" a familiar voice suddenly asked behind Harry. Ivan released Harry at once. 

"Go right ahead, dogboy. Have fun."

Harry turned and saw Sirius grinning down on him. "You want to dance?" Harry asked. 

"I'll have you know that I was quite the dancer back in my day," Sirius said, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. "Let's see if I still have it."

Harry grinned and curled his arms around Sirius' neck, pulling him close. Sirius moved differently than Ivan or Duncan had, less fluidly, but it was still perfect, Harry thought, to be dancing with Sirius in a club. He pressed himself against Sirius and stared up at him. On impulse, Harry pressed his lips to Sirius' and Sirius answered him with a searing kiss. Harry closed his eyes and let Sirius take the lead in their dance and their kiss until he was forced to draw back to take a deep breath. He'd grown hard and he felt a hard bulge press against his hip.

"Mind if I join the fun?" Remus suddenly asked, pressing against Harry's back. Harry looked over his shoulder and grinned. 

"This is brilliant," he said, happily sandwiched between Sirius and Remus. He saw Sirius give Remus a short but intense kiss, and then Remus caught Harry's lips and Harry rested the back of his head on Remus' shoulder while he let Remus devour his mouth. 

"I think you three are ready for the darkroom," Ivan said, looking at them with an amused smile. Harry glanced up and saw Bill dancing closely with the girl he'd been talking to. 

"The darkroom?" Harry asked, confused. 

"Oh, yes. Just follow me." Ivan slung his arm around Patrick and together they pushed their way through the crowd. Sirius shrugged and holding on to Harry's hand tightly, he followed them. 

Ivan led them to an open door underneath one of the large balconies. When they halted there, Harry saw that Bill and the girl had joined them as well. 

"This way," Ivan said, stepping through the doorway with Patrick on his heels. Harry followed him but right inside the dark room they entered, someone stopped him and pushed a few things into Harry's hands. 

Harry glanced down and saw that he was now holding a tube of lubricant and several condoms. He glanced up again. 

"Be safe," said the vampire who'd handed him the items. 

"We take good care of our mortals," Ivan said, and pulled Harry further inside. Sirius and Remus were right behind him and Harry took in his surroundings. As his eyes got used to the scarce, bluish light, Harry's mouth dropped open. 

They stood in what appeared to be a hallway of sorts, with three open doorways that led to more rooms. Through the first doorway, Harry saw the faint silhouettes of two naked woman together, one of them on her knees while she had her face buried between the legs of the other one. Through the second doorway, Harry noticed several men and women together in every possible position, and finally through the third doorway, he saw men. Naked men together with other naked men. 

"That's the girls' room," Ivan said, pointing at the first doorway. "That's for the mixed couples. Billy will be using that one tonight, I believe." Ivan grinned and pointed at the last one. "And we'll be going there, puppy. The men's room." 

"Merlin's tits," Sirius said behind Harry as they stepped through the third doorway. Harry wanted to agree with him but he'd lost his voice somewhere in that hallway and all he could do was stare at the men around them. To their right, one man was on his knees, sucking another man's cock. Right in front of them, a man was fucking another man against the wall and just a bit to their left, a man was kneeling with another man pounding into him. 

"Have fun, boys," Ivan said, and pulled Patrick with him to an empty space right ahead. 

Harry glanced up at Sirius and Remus. Sirius' grin was so wide, Harry was sure it had to hurt him. Remus' face was blank, but his round eyes betrayed his astonishment. 

"Ah, there you are," Bill suddenly said from behind them. "I need your help, Harry. This Muggle girl I'm with is asking about a combomb and I haven't a bloody clue what it is."

Harry snickered. "It's a condom, actually." He handed Bill two of the condoms he'd been holding. "You have to...um....well, ask the girl. I'm sure she knows what to do with it."

"Thanks," Bill said, beaming, and rushed out of the men's room. 

"So what do we do?" Harry asked, looking at Sirius. 

"What do you think we do?" Sirius said, and pulled both Harry and Remus with him in the direction Ivan and Patrick had disappeared. "We shag, of course."

"Padfoot!" Remus muttered. "We're in public!"

"I know. Wicked, eh?" Sirius licked his lips. 

"Sirius," Remus hissed, pulling away from Sirius' grip. "I'm not doing anything in here. I mean it."

Sirius' face dropped and he looked between Harry and Remus. "What do you think, Harry?"

"Well..." Harry glanced around. While he had no problem looking at the other men and admiring their naked bodies and obvious talent, the idea of lowering his trousers and having either Sirius and Remus fuck him with other people around was just a tad intimidating. 

"Are you uncomfortable, Harry?" Remus asked quietly. Harry heaved a sigh and nodded. 

"All right, we'll just go back to the bar and have a drink," Sirius said, his shoulders slumped. 

"We'll have all the sex you want when we get back home, Padfoot. With our new toys," Remus said, pressing a kiss to the corner of Sirius' mouth. Sirius nodded and managed a smile, although Harry could see he was still disappointed. 

"I'll let you tie me up," Harry whispered in Sirius' ear. "And I'll keep the collar on."

"Now you're talking," Sirius said, grinning. They moved through the crowd back to the bar and sat down on a couple of stools while the bartender supplied them with beers and a screwdriver. 

"Two o'clock. Bloke with the long brown hair," Sirius said, and sipped his beer. 

"What?" Harry glanced up at him, confused. 

"What do you think of him?" Sirius gave Harry a soft nudge with his shoulder. 

"Oh." Harry frowned. "He's got a nice arse."

"I'll say," Remus agreed. "Ten o'clock. Shirtless bloke with the short, blond hair."

"Nice pecs," Sirius said.

"Nice bulge, too," Harry added, which earned him a grin from Sirius. "Um...three o'clock. The bloke with the short, black hair." 

"Whoa, look at that package," Sirius said. "He's got to have a pair of socks stuffed in there."

"It certainly doesn't look like socks," Remus mused, tilting his head. 

"That's Fernando," the vampire behind the bar said. "And that isn't a pair of socks, trust me." When Sirius gave him a surprised look, he added, "Sorry, couldn't help overhearing the conversation. More beer?"

Sirius nodded and while he accepted a full glass from the bartender, the subject of their conversation came strolling over. 

"Hey," Fernando said to Sirius, leaning one hand on his hip, striking a casual pose that just happened to bring out his strongest point. Harry tried not to stare.

"Hey," Sirius said, raising his glass in a silent salute. 

"I couldn't help noticing you giving me a look," Fernando said. 

"Really? Well, it's hard not to look, isn't it. What've you got in there, mate? Ten inches or so?" Sirius asked. 

"Try eleven," Fernando replied in a husky whisper. Harry choked on his screwdriver while Sirius whistled through his teeth, impressed. 

"You want to take a closer look?" Fernando nodded his head in the direction of the darkroom. 

"Nah, thanks. I'm all set," Sirius said, indicating Harry and Remus with a quick wave of his hand. 

"Too bad," Fernando said, and strolled away, his hips swaying casually.

"Ha!" Sirius said, looking triumphant. "I've still got it. Eleven inches right there, flirting with me."

Harry snorted with laughter but Remus rolled his eyes. "Dear Lord, we're going to hear about that until the end of his century, aren't we?"

"You betcha," Sirius said, grinning like mad. 

Chortling, Harry sipped his drink and then let out a satisfied sigh. 

"Having a good time?" Sirius asked. 

"Yeah. This is the best Christmas ever," Harry said, and let Sirius pull him close to give him a kiss.

"Was all that naked man-flesh a bit too much to handle, puppy?" Ivan halted in front of them, his shirt half undone and a few faint scratch marks visible on his pale chest.

"Don't worry about that, lads." Patrick lit up a cigarette, giving them a smile. "First time Ivan dragged me in there, I was out of there faster than Ivan can drop his trousers."

"Which is fast," Ivan supplied, nodding.

"Yeah, it was a bit...too public," Harry said and shrugged. "But the rest is really cool," he added, waving his hand around to indicate the club as a whole. 

"Good," Ivan said, and then turned to Sirius. "Are you convinced now, dogboy, that we don't spend our nights pillaging and killing?"

"I suppose," Sirius said. When Remus looked at him, Sirius grinned. "Eleven inches, Moony!"

"Ah, you met Fernando?" Ivan asked, smiling knowingly. 

"Yep. Flirted with me, too."

"Well, I could piss on your parade and tell you that Fernando is an even bigger flirt than I am, but I won't. Good for you, dogboy." Ivan smirked. Sirius' answering scowl was dark. 

"How was Bill holding up?" Remus asked. 

"He still looked quite busy when we left," Ivan said. "I suspect he'll be a while."

"All right. I suggest we get going then." Remus looked at Harry and Sirius. Harry wanted to object, but he had to admit he was getting tired. Sirius nodded and slid off the stool.

"Thanks for having us," Harry said to Ivan as he got up as well. Ivan pulled him close and pressed a soft kiss to Harry's lips. 

"My pleasure, puppy. Do come back again."

"Does he have to keep kissing Harry?" Sirius muttered to Remus. 

"Jealous, dogboy? Come here." Before Sirius could object, Ivan grabbed his shirt, pulled him close and kissed Sirius' lips soundly. Sirius stepped back, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Don't know where that mouth has been," he said to Remus by way of explanation. 

"Only around his cock," Ivan drawled, nodding at Patrick. 

Remus rolled his eyes. "We'd best get going. We'll be in contact about the things we've discussed earlier."

"Have a good moon," Patrick said. 

"You, too." Remus nodded his head politely and grabbed Harry's hand, leading him through the club to the doors with Sirius right behind them. Outside, the two vampires on guard watched dispassionately as Harry waved at them right before he apparated back home. 

"That was absolutely brilliant," he said the moment he opened his eyes in the drawing room.

"Yes, it was nice," Remus said, and Sirius nodded his agreement. 

"Do we get to try out the toys now?" Sirius asked, glancing hopefully at the box near the Christmas tree. 

"Sounds good. I want to..." Harry's sentence was cut off by an urgent yawn. 

"Perhaps we'd best leave that until tomorrow," Remus suggested, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and pushing him towards the hallway. 

"All right." Sirius followed them up the stairs. Inside their bedroom, they all undressed quietly and Harry crawled under the covers, soon joined by his lovers.

"What do you want to try out first tomorrow, Harry?" Sirius asked, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist. 

"I dunno...everything," Harry mumbled, his eyes falling shut. He didn't stay awake long enough to hear if Sirius replied to that.


	15. Chapter 14

The fact that Harry's body was still pleasantly sore from their experimentation did nothing to relax him while he felt the ascending moon pull at him. The last two days they'd spent almost continuously in bed, only getting up for a quick shower and a bite to eat. With the full moon so close, both Harry and Remus had been horny and up and ready the whole time; at one point, Sirius had just slumped to the bed and told them to shag together while he'd watch.

"Almost time," Remus whispered beside Harry on the bed. Harry nodded and leaned his head on Remus' shoulder, staring at their bare legs stretched out on the sheets. He felt it clearly now, that itch that would soon turn to searing agony as the monster inside of him tore its way out. 

"You'll be fine," Sirius said from the chair near the bed.

"I know," Harry whispered, trying to keep his breathing even. His body broke out in sweat, a thin, cool layer on his feverish skin. And then the pain struck, and from the first aching moment Harry knew something was wrong. He tried to warn Sirius, he tried to say that the beast inside him was far too strong for him to control, but his breathing was cut off as his skull morphed, his nose lengthened and his teeth elongated.

Then the pain became too much, almost unbearable, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut while his body thrashed against the sheets. When the pain finally stopped and the transformation was complete, Harry tried to open his eyes but was shocked to discover that he couldn't. 

He wasn't in control of his body any longer. 

Something opened his eyes for him and Harry was relieved to see that Padfoot was looking back at him. Then Harry's body started moving and Harry, trapped inside his own mind, could do nothing than let it, let the wolf, let Blue, have all control. 

Beside him, Moony got to his feet and Harry saw at once that the same had happened to Remus. The werewolf staring back at him wasn't the Moony Harry'd spent his summer with. It was the werewolf Harry had briefly glimpsed in his third year and that evening last summer, down in the cellar room. There was hunger in those amber eyes, madness even, and Harry wanted to lower himself submissively, but Blue had other plans and stared Moony in the eye, a direct confrontation in canine terms. 

Moony raised his lips, baring saliva-covered teeth, and Blue answered him by flashing his own teeth.

Harry felt oddly torn. Part of him knew he should show submission to Moony, since Moony was their leader. But a different part of him, the wolf part, wanted to challenge Moony. Harry realized that he wanted to take Moony's place as the Alpha of their pack. 

Halfway across the room, Padfoot yipped hopefully, trying to get their attention and lure them into a friendly round of chasing, but both Moony and Blue ignored him, gazes fixed on each other. Moony growled and Blue growled back, and Harry had the urge to cheer Blue on. He wanted to pounce on Moony, bury his teeth in Moony's throat and bite down until Moony would surrender or until his neck would snap. 

But before Blue could strike, Moony did. His jaws snapped shut around Blue's neck and Blue howled in pain, Harry echoing the sounds in his mind. Blue was forced onto his back and Harry was thankful Blue bared his throat and his belly, finally showing the submission Moony wanted to see.

Moony released him, jumped off the bed stiffly and trotted out the room. Blue crawled up, shook his furry body and then spotted Padfoot. 

Well, Harry reasoned together with Blue, if they couldn't take on the leader of the pack, perhaps the second-in-command was a more appropriate adversary.

Padfoot wagged his tail, his long tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in a doggy grin. Harry felt something break inside of him, probably his heart, but he couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to challenge that stupid dog. Who did he think he was, that he could run with two werewolves who were so much stronger, so much more intelligent than he was. 

Blue stalked towards Padfoot, tail high and teeth bared. Padfoot stopped wagging and raised his tail as well, his eyes narrowing. Blue growled and Padfoot growled back, his hackles raised. But this time it was Blue who struck first, sinking his teeth into Padfoot's throat, and Harry cried victory inside the confinement of his lupine mind.

But strong jaws gripped Blue's neck and pulled him off Padfoot. Blue spun around on his feet and glared at Moony, who looked murderous while he placed himself between Padfoot and Blue. Growling, Blue pressed himself against the floor, his limbs and back stiff. Moony stared at him for a moment and then he yipped before he trotted out of the room again, this time Padfoot following him closely. 

Blue huffed and Harry sighed, and then Blue padded out the room as well, following his pack because it was the right, instinctual thing to do. 

Downstairs, Moony paced the drawing room while Padfoot sat near the door, looking slightly defeated. Blue ignored them and hurried to the kitchen where he found the back door closed. Growling in frustration, Blue threw himself against it, the wood creaking beneath the force. But after numerous attempts the door still didn't budge, and Blue gave up and focused his attention on the pantry door. 

That door gave way after only a few tries and Blue investigated the items inside. He tore a sack of potatoes open, tasted one but spit it out again quickly, and then amused himself by ripping the dishtowels to shreds. 

Harry could do nothing but watch and enjoy the havoc Blue was wreaking. 

When the contents of the pantry were spread around the kitchen in bits and pieces, Blue decided to try the back door again, because he knew that door led to a world filled with prey to hunt and humans to kill.

However, a loud crack from the hallway caught his attention, and Blue rushed up the stairs to find Tonks standing near the front door, oblivious to the danger she was in. 

"Tonks!" Sirius yelled, storming out of the drawing room. "Get out of here, now!"

While her eyes widened, Tonks disapparated with a loud crack, but Blue hardly noticed it. He'd fixed his gaze on a different prey and at that moment, Harry wanted to kill Sirius. They both did. They wanted to tear the flesh from his bones and drink his blood until it would colour their muzzle crimson.

Blue leaped and Harry watched as they closed in on Sirius, who turned on his feet and then fell back against the floor in shock. But the moment Blue's jaws closed around Sirius' throat, there was fur instead of fragile human flesh. 

Shaking his head, Blue clamped his teeth down around Padfoot's throat, but Moony was there instantly and dragged Blue off by his neck. 

Shaking his fur, Blue ignored his failed attempt at killing that dog and trotted inside the drawing room where he started clawing and biting at the couch. It smelled like humans, and though it was a poor substitute for real prey, Blue didn't stop until the pillows were ripped to pieces and all that remained was the bare wooden frame. 

But as the night progressed Blue grew more and more restless, and after another failed attempt at ripping that dog's throat out, Blue started biting at his own legs in sheer frustration. Harry watched and felt and understood Blue even though it bloody hurt to have his own legs bit open to the bone.

Moony was clawing at the front door and when the wood proved stronger than the wolf, Moony started clawing at his own head and biting at his paws. 

Padfoot sat to the side and watched them with slumped shoulders and lowered ears. 

Finally, after an eternity of self-mutilation and frustration, the moon made way for the day and Blue slumped to the carpet, his body thrashing and convulsing until Harry emerged again. 

And it was as if a trance was broken and Harry was shoved back into reality and he realized what he had done. 

He'd almost killed Sirius. He'd wanted to kill Sirius. 

"Get it out of me!" he yelled, ignoring his already bloody arms and hands as he clawed at his naked chest. "Fuck, get it out of me, please!"

Sirius was by his side instantly, pushing his shoulders down against the floor to immobilize his arms. "Harry, hush, it will be okay."

"No! It won't be okay. It's inside me. Get it out! Get it out!" Harry kicked Sirius off him so he could continue trying to claw his way inside to rip out the monster that lived there. 

"Harry! Calm down!" Sirius crawled back to his knees and pushed Harry against the floor roughly. 

"Get it out of me!" Harry yelled, screaming and kicking and truly wanting to die for the first time in his life. 

"Moony, can you get...upstairs...calming potion in the bathroom."

Harry didn't hear Remus' reply nor the slow steps up and down the stairs because he had to get it out of him. There was a beast inside him, a beast that made him a monster and he wanted it gone. 

Someone pushed a vial against his lips and when Harry tried to turn his head away, strong hands held his head still and forced the potion down his throat. 

"Get it out, please," Harry whimpered, his gaze unfocussed while his mind became foggy and clouded and the bones in his body melted into a warm mush. "Please, make it stop."

There was the odd sensation of floating and then warm sheets surrounded him, suffocated him, and all Harry could do until darkness swallowed him whole was whisper: "Please, out of me, stop, stop."

*~*~*~*~*

When Harry woke up again sometime later, his head still felt as if it were filled with cotton balls and his bones still seemed to be made of pudding. His vision was blurred and his hearing woozy, and he heard distant voices even though he could see people moving around nearby.

"I assure you, Sirius, that Severus was not aware the alterations would render the Wolfsbane Potion useless."

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"Padfoot, please."

"Yes, I do expect that, Sirius. Severus merely tried to prolong the durability of the potion, as we discussed during our last Order meeting. Unfortunately, it didn't have the desired effect."

"You can bloody well say that again."

"Poppy, how is Harry?"

"I've cleaned and bandaged his wounds, but they will scar, I'm afraid. You know what it's like with werewolf marks, Remus. Are your wounds giving any trouble?"

"No, they'll heal. They always do. I'm more worried about Harry. He seemed quite upset earlier."

"Try bloody hysterical."

"Well, I'll leave you a few more vials of a calming draught and some dreamless sleep potion. That's all I can do for now."

"Thank you, Poppy."

"Then we must be off. If anything comes up, anything at all, you know where to contact me or Poppy."

"Yes, good day, Albus."

"And get some rest, Remus. You shouldn't be up this soon after your transformation."

"Yeah, Moony. Get some sleep."

Harry felt the bed shift and he tried to roll away because he couldn't possibly face Sirius or Remus, not after what had happened, after what he'd almost done. But his body refused to cooperate and instead gave into the pull of darkness that lurked inside Harry's mind.

*~*~*~*~*

"Wake up, Harry. I've brought you some soup. You should eat something. It will help you heal."

An insistent hand stroked Harry's shoulder and Harry tried to pull away from it. He didn't want to wake up. He didn't want to eat. And he sure as hell didn't want to look at Sirius, but Sirius rolled him over and Harry was suddenly staring at his face anyway. He quickly closed his eyes. 

"Harry, come on. Everything's fine."

It will never be fine again, Harry wanted to say. Instead, he rolled onto his side the moment Sirius released his shoulder and buried his face in the pillow. There were tears stinging his eyes – must be from those stupid potions, Harry thought – and Harry clenched his hands in the sheets. 

He was a killer. Whatever lived inside of him was a monster. And that made him a monster as well. 

"Sirius, let him have a bit more sleep. Try again later."

"All right. If you need anything, Harry, just give a yell. Moony will be right here and I'll be downstairs for a bit."

Harry didn't reply but kept his eyes squeezed shut, wishing Madam Pomfrey had left him Pepperup instead of calming draughts so he could stop his heart once and for all.

*~*~*~*~*

"Come on, Harry. Get up and stretch your legs a bit. It's been three days."

Harry ignored Sirius' pleading voice and stared at the wall. 

"You've got to come out of bed sometime."

Harry didn't want to get out of bed ever again. He just wanted to lie there and stare at the wall until he fell asleep again and could forget about everything for a while. That was, until those dreams found him and he was trapped inside Blue's mind all over again. Only in his dreams, Sirius was always too late with transforming back to Padfoot. 

"Harry, why don't we go down to the kitchen and have something to eat?" Remus asked, stroking Harry's hair. Harry pulled away from him, his lips pursed and a determined frown tugging on his brow. 

"Bloody hell, Moony. What do we do now?"

Remus sighed. "I don't know."

*~*~*~*~*

The next time Harry woke up, for a moment he thought he was alone in the bedroom. Until he rolled onto his other side and saw someone sitting in the chair beside the bed, legs drawn up, heels resting on the edge of the seat, arms crossed on top of a couple of knees and two blue eyes peeking over them. The moment Harry recognized Ivan, he rolled onto his other side again.

Then a cool finger poked his back and kept poking.

"What?" Harry snapped, turning his head to glare at Ivan. 

"Ah, so you are alive. And here I thought I'd discovered the first corpse with a heartbeat."

"Piss off."

"Don't be so rude, puppy."

"Don't call me that. I'm not a bloody puppy."

"Ever so sorry, darling. Now, care to tell me what's eating you? I know it's not me." Ivan clucked his tongue. "You look dreadful. I've seen dead bodies that look better than you. In fact, I am one."

Harry sighed. "What are you doing here?" he asked tiredly. 

Ivan sat down on the edge of the bed. "Your wolf needed Patrick to sort him out, so I tagged along. It's more fun than watching the reruns of the A-Team."

Tilting his head up, Harry glanced around the room. "Where's the rest, then?"

"Oh, they're downstairs, chatting. It's all grown-up talk, very boring, so I decided to come bother you."

Harry wondered if Ivan even realized that technically speaking, he was the most grown-up of them all. Then Harry thought that Ivan probably did but just didn't care. "Well, thanks for stopping by, but you can leave now."

"Actually, I can't. I promised to baby-sit you while they busy themselves with deep philosophical debates."

"As if I need someone to –"

"What happened, Harry?"

The fact that Ivan had just used his name for the first time ever shocked Harry into silence, and he stared up at Ivan while an invisible hand squeezed around his heart. 

"I dunno," Harry whispered, looking away and worrying his lip. "I wanted to kill him. Them."

"Ah. I know that feeling."

Harry glanced up at Ivan, frowning. 

"No, really, I do." Ivan shifted on the bed, propping himself up against the headboard, his long legs stretched out on the sheets. "And no, it never gets any easier."

Harry pushed himself up as well, sitting down beside Ivan. "Then how do you deal with that?"

"Well, first, you fall into a deep depression, and after a while you figure that's not working and you decide to take it out on your victims. That won't work either, and then you decide that feeling will never go away and you try to accept it." Ivan leaned closer to Harry, dropping his voice to a whisper. "So you develop a custom-made attitude and hide behind arrogance and allow yourself to go just a little bit mad."

Ivan smiled at Harry, a very human smile. "It worked for me, anyway. Of course, in your case, you might just want to slit your wrists right now if you think you won't be able to handle it."

Harry pursed his lips, staring down at his lap. 

"Or I could drain you. You'll come one last time before you go. It would be my pleasure, darling."

Harry snorted. But then he felt tears filling his eyes suddenly and unexplainably and he blinked them away. "I don't want to die, not really. It's just...I feel like I want to die, never wake up again."

"Death is overrated, darling." Ivan patted Harry's knee. "So is immortality for that matter, but that's a whole different story. Now, do you mind if I read a bit?" Ivan picked up a book from the nightstand, which he'd apparently placed there earlier. 

"Um...all right," Harry said, confused. 

Ivan took a deep breath and flipped the small paperback open to the first page, his gaze fixed on the text.

Harry glanced at him, still confused. But he was also curious, and after a moment he cleared his throat. "What are you reading?"

"Hm?" Ivan looked up and then showed Harry the cover. 

'Mary Shelley's Frankenstein', it read. 

"Oh," Harry said. 

"Ever read it?"

"No, I don't think so. Heard about it."

"It's a good story," Ivan said. He frowned for a moment and then nudged Harry with his elbow. "You know what? I'll read it to you."

"Um..." Harry wasn't sure how to tell Ivan he considered himself a bit too old for bedtime stories. 

"I've read it many times already," Ivan said. "I've got a first edition at home, in fact, and I met Mary Shelley once. Lovely lady. You'll enjoy the story, I'm sure."

"Okay," Harry said, more to avoid disappointing Ivan than because he wanted to hear a story. 

"All right. Here we go." Ivan cleared his throat and flipped the book open again. "We'll start with the preface, written in 1817. Yes, this is truly a classic, darling."

Harry bunched his pillow up behind him and then settled back, listening to Ivan's soft voice. 

_"The event on which this fiction is founded has been supposed, by Dr. Darwin, and some of the physiological writers of Germany, as not of impossible occurrence. I shall not be supposed as according the remotest degree of serious faith to such an imagination; yet, in assuming it as the basis of a work of fancy, I have not considered myself as merely weaving a series of supernatural terrors."_

Harry felt himself relax while he listened to Ivan reading the story with an intensity that surprised him. After a while, Remus stopped by and left Harry a bowl of soup and a glass of pumpkin juice. Harry ignored the soup but drained the glass of juice, and Ivan ignored him and read on. 

_"...To examine the causes of life, we must first have recourse to death. I became acquainted with the science of anatomy: but this was not sufficient; I must also observe the natural decay and corruption of the human body."_

Eventually, Remus, Sirius and Patrick joined them in the bedroom, pulling up chairs and sitting down quietly to listen to Ivan read. Harry ignored them; by that time he was so engrossed in the story that he didn't care they were there. 

_"...'Hideous monster! let me go. My papa is a Syndic –he is M. Frankenstein—he will punish you. You dare not keep me.'_

_'Frankenstein! you belong then to my enemy – to him towards whom I have sworn eternal revenge; you shall be my first victim.'_

_The child still struggled, and loaded me with epithets which carried despair to my heart; I grasped his throat to silence him, and in a moment he lay dead at my feet."_

Harry pulled up a pillow against his chest and rested his chin on it, his knees drawn up. Remus got up and returned a moment later with a jug of pumpkin juice. Harry gulped down two glasses in a row and then cradled a third one, completely absorbed by the story. 

_"...'But soon,' he cried, with sad and solemn enthusiasm, 'I shall die, and what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be extinct. I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly, and exult in the agony of the torturing flames. The light of that conflagration will face away; my ashes will be swept into the sea by the winds. My spirit will sleep in peace; or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. Farewell.'_

_He sprung from the cabin-window, as he said this, upon the ice-raft which lay close to the vessel. He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."_

Ivan closed the book. "The end," he said solemnly.

Biting his lip, Harry stared down at his feet in determination. There were tears filling his eyes again and he tried to blink them away, tried to swallow them back, but there were too many and Harry felt his shoulders shake while he pressed his palms against his eyes. 

"It really will be fine, puppy," Ivan whispered to him. "After you get it out of your system. Here, you can have it." Harry felt the small weight of the paperback in his lap. "We'll see you later."

The mattress dipped and Harry heard footsteps leave the room. He was unable to stop shaking and when he finally dared to peek through his fingers, he saw Sirius and Remus still sitting in the chairs opposite the bed. 

"That was a good story, wasn't it?" Harry whispered, his voice tight with whatever was also clenching around his heart.

Remus swallowed. "Yes, it was."

Harry's breaths were thick and ragged and his cheeks were suddenly moist. "I really liked the part where the monster realized he was lonely and that only another monster would ever understand him and that he really just was what he was and that the world, the people shunned him and that they left him no other choice but to...and I'm so sorry...I'm so fucking sorry."

Harry curled up and slammed his fist down against his pillow, unable to say anything else. He was crying now, he realized, sobbing like a bloody baby, but he couldn't stop, no matter how hard he punched his pillow. And then there were arms around him, hands grabbing his wrists and he was pulled against two hard, warm bodies but he still couldn't stop shaking. 

"I'm a monster," he whispered. 

"Harry, listen to me." Sirius cupped Harry's face, forcing Harry to look at him. "You are not a monster, do you understand? And I never want to hear you say that again."

"But I was a monster," Harry wailed. "I wanted to kill you...god, I wanted to kill you both."

"You're Harry. You're still you. New and improved, sure, but still Harry." Sirius' gaze was narrowed and intense and Harry couldn't look away from it. 

"But I wanted to kill –"

"But you didn't, Harry. I've been around werewolves longer than you've been alive. I can handle myself." Harry stared at Sirius in disbelief. "Tell me what you did that night that was so horribly wrong."

"Well, he did eat the couch," Remus offered. 

Harry, who'd been whimpering softly, turned to look at Remus and for a moment all three of them were quiet. Then Harry started laughing so hard his throat burned and his chest ached and he couldn't stop. Sirius joined in, as did Remus, and Harry laughed and laughed until there were finally no more tears left to spill. 

"Here," Remus said, offering Harry a few tissues. Harry dabbed at his eyes and blew his nose. 

"I can't believe I cried like a baby," Harry muttered, wiping his nose one last time. 

"Don't worry about that," Sirius said. Harry gave him a questioning look. "What, you think I never shed a tear while I was in Azkaban? Or after I got out?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose." 

"You think Moony never cried after he lost everything?"

Remus looked uncomfortable but nodded his agreement. "Sometimes, you just have to get it out of your system."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He was feeling a bit better. Relieved. Also embarrassed, still, but mostly as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest. "I understand now what you told me back then," Harry said, glancing at Remus. "About wanting to do those things. God, I don't know what happened, but I felt so...so..."

"You felt like a werewolf," Remus said. "That's what being a werewolf is, without the Wolfsbane Potion."

"Well, it's crap, then," Harry said.

"Oh, you hadn't worked that out before?" Sirius asked, pushing against Harry with his shoulder. Harry snorted and managed a weak smile. 

Remus returned it and kissed Harry's temple, running a comforting hand through his hair. "Let me see how your arms have healed," he said. Harry held out his hands and arms, which were still bandaged. Remus flicked his wand a few times and the strips of linen uncurled themselves from Harry's arms, revealing pale skin marred with fresh, pink scars.

Harry stared at his arms for a while, letting everything that had happened the last few hours sink in. 

"Does it still hurt?" Sirius asked, running his thumb across a particularly deep welt. Harry shook his head. "It looks very masculine. There's nothing as sexy as a scarred bloke, right, Moony?"

"Well..." Remus said and looked at his own scarred hands. "It does have its charms, I suppose."

"See? You're irresistible now," Sirius raised one of Harry's hands and kissed it, brushing his lips across a few of the scars. Harry smiled but it was more of a reflex than a heartfelt gesture. He was numb, as if all his emotions had been washed out of him by those stupid tears.

"How is Tonks?" Harry asked, trying to divert the subject away from him. 

"She's fine. She was a bit shaken at first, or so she told me the next day," Sirius said. "And she thought you were Remus, since she didn't actually see Moony, so we were able to keep your secret from her."

"Ah, good." Harry tried to smile again, and there was a bit more feeling behind it this time. 

"Is there something we can get you, Harry?" Remus asked.

Harry thought for a moment and then his rumbling stomach made the decision for him. "I'm hungry, actually."

"Well , get your arse out of bed and I'll fix you something to eat," Sirius said, jumping up.

"Why don't you take a shower first and then come downstairs?" Remus suggested, and Harry nodded. He could definitely do with a shower. 

Harry shuffled towards the bathroom and once inside, he shoved down his boxers and stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was blotchy and his nose looked raw and red. As he lowered his gaze he saw the scars on his arms, hands and a few on his chest and legs. There weren't nearly as many as Remus had, but they still stood out and Harry traced a finger down a pink welt across his abdomen. 

Perhaps, in a way, it was good that the scars were there now, Harry thought. They would remind him what he was. It had been easy to forget whenever the moon wasn't full that he wasn't completely human anymore. Harry didn't think he would ever forget it from that moment on.

He stepped under the shower and let the lukewarm water wash down on him for a long time, his hands resting on the tiles and his head bent. He was still numb, but it was good to feel clean, even though a small part of Harry thought he might never be entirely clean again.

After washing his hair, Harry shut the taps and picked up a towel, and while he dried himself off he once again stared in the mirror. He tried to see a monster in his reflection but all he saw was Harry. 

Scrawny and gangly and pale and scarred. And with chest hair.

Harry leaned closer to the mirror and squinted to make up for the lack of his glasses. 

Merlin's beard, he had chest hair. 

That hadn't been there before. He had hair under his arms and around his privates, with a small trail leading down from his navel, and barely enough hair on his face to need a daily shave, but he was quite sure he hadn't had chest hair until that moment. 

But there it was. Short, black hairs around his nipples and in between. 

Harry first brushed his teeth and then his hair and hurried into their bedroom to get dressed. He pulled on a pair of jeans, stepped into his trainers and then picked up a T-shirt and jumper but didn't put them on. 

He rushed down the stairs, through the hallway and down to the kitchen. 

"Look what I've got!" he yelled as he burst through the kitchen door. And then he realized they still had company. 

"What have you got?" Sirius asked from his spot in front of the stove. 

"Um..." Harry said, raising his jumper and T-shirt in front of his bare chest as he gave Patrick a sheepish smile. Patrick sat at the table holding a steaming cup of coffee, and Ivan sat, or rather lay slumped beside him, head pillowed on his arms and his long hair shielding most of his face. Remus turned in his seat to look at Harry. 

"Well?" Sirius asked. 

"Chest hair," Harry mumbled, an embarrassed flush heating his cheeks. 

"Oh, let me see." Sirius was at his side instantly and pulled Harry's clothes out of the way. "Call the Prophet, our Harry has chest hair."

Harry wanted to punch Sirius. Very hard. 

"Must be the testosterone kicking in," Remus said. 

"Aye," Patrick agreed. "You'll be nice and furry like Remus and me in no time."

"Ah, so it's a werewolf thing," Harry said. Remus and Patrick nodded. "Okay. Cool." Harry pulled his T-shirt and jumper on and then slid into a seat beside Remus. "What's with him?" he asked, looking at Ivan. 

"My little angel's having his beauty sleep," Patrick said, and ruffled Ivan's hair. 

"I'm trying to rest," Ivan mumbled and then tilted his head up for a moment. He looked bleary, Harry thought. "Hey, puppy," Ivan said, and let his head fall back onto his arms. 

"Breakfast is almost done, Harry," Sirius said, and slapped a few strips of bacon into the frying pan. 

"Breakfast?" Harry asked, confused. "What time is it?"

"Just past dawn," Patrick said, and pointed his thumb at Ivan. "Hence his comatose state."

"We called them late last evening and we've been up all night," Remus said. Harry nodded and tried to grasp the fact that it was morning. He'd completely lost his sense of time, spending four days in bed. 

"I was just about to step out for a fag. Want to join me, lad?" Patrick asked, rising from his seat. Harry glanced at Remus, who gave him an encouraging smile, and then he nodded and followed Patrick out the back door into the yard. 

The air was crisp with frost and the sky was coming to life with pale yellow bursts of sunlight climbing over the surrounding houses. The snow crunched beneath Harry's trainers as he walked beside Patrick. 

"Remus told me what happened," Patrick said, and then took his time lighting a cigarette, letting his statement linger between them. Harry stuffed his hands inside his pockets and stared at the snow-covered trees in front of them. 

"Seems you've got the makings of an Alpha wolf, lad."

"Huh?"

Patrick smiled. "What with you challenging both Remus and Sirius."

"Oh."

"It's not surprising," Patrick said, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. 

"It isn't?" Harry wondered, not sure what Patrick was trying to say. 

"No. I've got a strong wolf and I passed that on to Remus, who passed it on to you."

"Ah."

"It's got nothing to do with your personality, lad," Patrick said. "It's the wolf's personality. And the stronger the wolf, the more control he'll have over you and the more aggressive he'll be when he's loose."

Harry frowned. "Is that why Remus reacted so aggressively towards you? Both in human and wolf form?"

"Aye. Put two Alphas together who've got a bit of a difficult past and fur will fly."

"But I have no difficult past with Remus," Harry said. 

"No, but you're young. So is your wolf. He still believes he can conquer the world, or at least become leader of his pack. That will get better with time, as the wolf gets more secure of himself." Patrick dropped his cigarette in the snow, a little hiss breaking the silence.

"That's good to know," Harry said, scuffing his shoe into the snow. "It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience."

Patrick lay an arm around Harry's shoulders in a rather fatherly gesture, which Harry didn't mind at all. "It never is, lad. But it will get better, eventually."

"It's just so weird to suddenly not be normal anymore," Harry whispered. "Well, not that I've ever really been normal."

"But you are normal," Patrick said, smiling at him. "You're a perfectly normal werewolf."

Harry chuckled. "I suppose."

"You up for a bite to eat?"

"Definitely," Harry said, and followed Patrick back into the kitchen. Sirius had already set plates out on the table and was filling them with scrambled eggs and crispy bacon. 

"Can someone move the stiff?" Sirius asked. A soft growl was the only response Ivan gave. 

"Ivan, there are plenty of guestrooms upstairs. You're welcome to use one to rest," Remus said.

Ivan raised his head with great difficulty, and blinked at Remus a few times. "That sounds like a marvellous plan," he said hoarsely, and pushed himself up from his seat. As he walked to the door, Harry noticed that his usual grace and elegance was nowhere to be seen, but that he moved like an old man. 

"Sleep well, love," Patrick called after him. 

"I don't sleep," Ivan muttered and disappeared up the stairs. 

"Tuck in, Harry," Sirius said, gesturing at one of the plates. Harry didn't need any more encouragement. He sat down, loaded a fork full of eggs and shoved it into his mouth. 

"So whose idea was it to call in the troops?" he asked, and took a bite of his bacon. 

Sirius laughed, sliding into a seat beside Remus. "Moony's. He figured if I couldn't harass you out of bed, surely an annoying stiff could."

Harry shrugged and buttered a slice of toast. 

"Ivan's got a way of saying the wrong things at the right times," Patrick said with a fond smile. "When we got their call, he was quite eager to –"

"What the bloody fuck is that?!" Ivan's voice suddenly sounded through the house, followed by a few loud shrieks. 

"Buckbeak," Sirius said, and sprang to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor. Remus, Harry and Patrick followed him out of the kitchen in a mad dash up the stairs where they found Ivan staring horrified into Buckbeak's room. 

"I see you've met Beaky," Sirius said, and pushed past Ivan into the room to calm Buckbeak down, who was flapping his enormous wings and clicking his beak. 

"I've met what?" Ivan asked, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. 

"Buckbeak. He's a hippogriff," Harry said patiently, peeking inside the room where Sirius was stroking Buckbeak's neck. "If you want to touch him, you first have to bow to him and if he bows back you can approach him."

"Right," Ivan said, wrinkling his nose. "Why don't you just shove your hippoflip up your arse instead?" His face screwed up in annoyance, Ivan turned around stiffly. "You know, normal people have a parakeet," he muttered, shuffling to the next room. "Is this safe to enter or are you keeping the abominable snowman in there?" 

Harry tried very hard not to laugh. "It's safe. Although there might be doxies."

Ivan turned on his feet, looking murderous. But before he could say anything, Remus opened a door opposite their own bedroom. 

"This should be quite safe."

"It had better be," Ivan growled. "Bloody insane, the lot of you, keeping giant birds or horses or whatever the hell that was in a bedroom. If I wanted to enjoy the bloody local wildlife I'd sleep outside." Ivan disappeared inside the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

"Daytime makes him cranky," Patrick said, snickering. 

"You don't say," Remus said, shaking his head. "Well, breakfast is getting cold."

Sirius closed the door to Buckbeak's room and they went back down to the kitchen to finish eating. Afterwards, Remus made a pot of tea and they talked about all sort of things, from the chilly weather to using Wolfsbane Potion and how it affected the wolf. 

"I hope you don't mind me having a bit of a lie down," Patrick said after their third cup of tea. "There's no way in hell I'll be able to get Ivan home right now and I could do with a kip."

"Sure, no problem," Sirius said. Patrick nodded his thanks, got up and left the kitchen. 

"You all right, Harry?" Sirius asked, reaching across the table to place his hand over Harry's. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry glanced at Remus. "You seem to have got over your aversion to Patrick."

Remus pursed his lips. "Yes, well, whatever happened between us was a long time ago. And I have been known to be able to forgive. In this case, myself mostly."

"I'm glad you managed it," Harry said. "I enjoy talking to him. To them." Remus nodded. "Only a monster understands a monster after all," Harry added softly. 

"I wonder if I should feel insulted?" Sirius asked, narrowing his eyes. 

"Of course not. You're an escaped criminal, remember? You're right up there with us," Harry said, offering Sirius a teasing smile. 

"How can I forget," Sirius said, and squeezed Harry's hand in an affectionate gesture. "How about we get a few hours of sleep as well?"

"Sounds good," Harry said, feeling the night's events catching up with him. They got up and made their way upstairs quietly so as not to wake their guests. Sirius and Remus stepped inside their bedroom, but Harry took a right turn to the bathroom to take a pee. After he was done, he padded across the hallway to their bedroom, but he couldn't help noticing the door to the guest room was slightly ajar. 

Harry peeked inside. Patrick lay on his side, seemingly fast asleep, covers pulled up to his face. Beside him, Ivan lay on his stomach, sheets half kicked off and revealing his naked back. Harry stared at him, trying to make out why he looked so odd. And after a moment, Harry understood what was wrong with that picture. Ivan wasn't breathing. 

Intrigued, Harry pushed the door open a bit wider and slipped inside, not making any sound. Of course Ivan wasn't breathing, Harry thought. Vampires didn't have to breathe. He was technically a dead body.

That thought brought back unwanted memories of the night Cedric Diggory was killed. Harry closed his eyes and could see Cedric's body as if he were lying on the bed instead of Ivan. Not breathing. Dead. Killed. By a monster.

Harry's breathing sped up and his heart hammered inside his chest. Voldemort wasn't the kind of monster he was, Harry thought. Voldemort had a choice. Voldemort was the mad scientist. Voldemort was Frankenstein. Harry knew he didn't have a choice. He was just the monster.

"I don't mind the staring so much, puppy, but the panting is rather annoying."

Harry gasped for air, startled. "Sorry," he mumbled. 

Ivan tilted his head off the pillow and cracked his eyes open to look at Harry. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah," Harry said and he meant it. "I'm good."

"I'm glad to hear that. Now, tell me, what are you doing tonight?" Ivan swept a few strands of hair out of his face in a casual gesture and rolled onto his back so he could look up at Harry. 

"Tonight?"

"Yes, puppy. It's New Year's Eve, remember?"

"It is?"

Ivan snorted. "Yes, it is. Do you have plans yet?"

"No, not really," Harry said. 

"Good. You can come to the party, then."

"What party?"

Patrick suddenly shifted and tilted his head. "Could you get to the point already, Ivan? Some of us are trying to sleep here."

Ivan ignored him. "Party tonight at the club. Bring your shagbuddies. It will be fun."

"Oh, cool. I'll ask them," Harry said. 

"No, no," Ivan replied. "You don't ask them. You tell them."

"All right," Harry said, his mouth curving up in a grin. "Good night."

"Sleep well, puppy."

Harry rushed out of the room and burst into his bedroom. "We're going out tonight!"

"Huh?" Sirius stifled a yawn. 

"It's New Year's Eve," Harry said while he undressed. "There's a party at the club and we're invited."

"What's got him so bouncy all of a sudden?" Sirius asked Remus.

"Too much sugar?" Remus suggested. 

"No," Harry said, and crawled under the covers between his lovers. "I just realized I'm not Frankenstein."

"You know, I think that experimental potion of Snape's messed up his brain for good," Sirius said, and ducked when Harry tried to slap him. Then he smiled and kissed Harry, who wriggled happily against him. Remus pressed up against Harry and Harry relaxed, feeling like himself again for the first time in days.

*~*~*~*~*

"You've lived in Hawaii?" Harry asked, awed.

"Sure have, dude. California, too, for about twenty years," Duncan replied, leaning his elbow on the bar. "I used to hit the waves every night. Was awesome."

"Oh, you surfed?"

"Did I ever." Duncan's eyes misted over. 

"I play Quidditch," Harry said. When Duncan looked at him in confusion, Harry added, "You play it with a broom and balls."

"Oh, is that magic talk for being queer? Because I already knew that, dude. Ivan told me."

Harry snorted with laughter. "No, it's a sport. A wizarding sport."

"Ah. Far out." Duncan leaned closer to Harry so he could whisper in his ear. "Don't tell him you got it from me, dude, but Ivan so totally sucks on a board. He's always going on about me being crap at poker, but like, he so can't surf."

Harry snickered into his screwdriver, which he'd learned earlier was vodka and orange juice. "How did you meet Ivan, anyway?" he asked.

"He pretty much saved me," Duncan said, his look becoming more serious. "I was turned back in 1831 and I didn't know what hit me, you know? So I went down to New York but I so sucked at this whole vampire thing. And then one day, Ivan literally dragged me out of the gutter."

"He did?"

"Yeah, he totally did, dude. He read me Frankenstein and then it just, you know, made sense."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "He read you Frankenstein? That bastard! He knew exactly what he was doing last night!"

"What?"

"He read me Frankenstein, too."

"Oh yeah," Duncan said, and smiled. "He knows, dude. Ivan knows. He totally rocks. Made me his Foster-Childe."

"Huh?"

"I don't have a Sire, you know? I'm like a vampire orphan."

Harry frowned and shifted on his stool. "Wait, that having a Sire thing is important to vampires, right?"

"Totally. If a vampire walks out on you after he's turned you, you become a minion. And being a minion is, like, the lowest of the lowest you can be."

"Oh. And how is that different from not being a minion?"

Duncan smiled gravely. "When a vampire keeps you after he's turned you, you're his Childe, you know? And that vampire is your Sire. And he looks after you and teaches you how to be a vampire."

"And you were a minion?"

"Yeah. So was Ivan. Which is why, you know, he has this weakness for little orphans."

Harry had to smile at that. The mental image of Ivan surrounded by whining little brats was quite amusing.

"If it hadn't been for Ivan, I so totally wouldn't have made it," Duncan continued. 

"Why not?" Harry asked. 

"Dude, a minion is expendable. No one fucks with a Childe, but a minion, you know, you can do with him whatever you want."

"Ah. And Ivan was a minion once?"

"Yeah, he was a little vampire orphan. Which is why, you know, it totally rocks that he became a Master Vampire. That's hard shit to pull off, dude."

"Really?" Harry was sitting on the edge of his stool, fascinated by what Duncan was telling him. 

"There have been others who've made it that far, you know, but normally a minion doesn't live long enough for that to ever happen."

"But Ivan did," Harry concluded with a thoughtful frown. 

"Yeah. He tracked down the vampire who'd turned him and killed him. Took him, like, three centuries, but in the end he nailed that asshole. And then he became a Master Vampire."

"Because of his age and experience and such," Harry said, remembering reading that in the book on vampires he had at home. 

"Totally." Duncan glanced around the club and then suddenly his eyes widened. "Dude, I have to split. That guy over there owes me cash." 

"All right. Nice talking to you," Harry said, and answered Duncan's smile before he turned on his stool to see where his lovers were. Remus sat beside Patrick a bit down the bar and they appeared to be in conversation. Harry looked at the crowd around him and spotted Sirius talking with Fernando. Harry narrowed his eyes but then his line of sight was cut off by something dark and obtrusive. 

"Hello, puppy. Did you have a nice little chat with Duncan?" Ivan leaned his elbows on the bar beside Harry and waved the bartender over to order a drink. 

"Actually, yes, I did. We talked about Frankenstein," Harry said, regarding Ivan's reaction carefully. 

Ivan's lips tugged up in the tiniest of smiles and he glanced at Harry. "Did you now?"

"Yep. You can confess," Harry said, grinning. 

"Confess what?" Ivan asked innocently. 

"That you knew exactly what you were doing last night."

Ivan gave a half-shrug. "Of course I knew what I was doing. I read you a bedtime story."

Harry rolled his eyes and was about to reply when he noticed Fernando wrapping his arm around Sirius' shoulders and leading him away. A surge of jealousy hit Harry with so much force he almost fell off his stool. 

"What the hell is he doing?" he muttered. 

Ivan followed Harry's gaze and curved an eyebrow. "Oh, don't worry about that, puppy. He's just taking him to the back room."

"What?" Harry was on his feet instantly but Ivan's hand on his shoulder stopped him from charging after Sirius. 

"Not that back room, darling. The poker room. You're welcome to join us if you want."

"No, thanks," Harry said, and lowered himself on his stool again. He still felt oddly jealous at the sight of someone else touching Sirius. 

"Your dogboy will be fine, puppy. Just a bit poorer when you get him back." Ivan smirked and then walked into the crowd in Sirius' direction. 

Harry got up, grabbed his drink and strolled over to Patrick and Remus. "Sirius is off playing poker," he said with just a bit of a scowl. "With Fernando."

"Ah," Remus said, narrowing his eyes. 

"He'll be broke before the night is over," Patrick said, shaking his head. "I consider myself a decent poker player, but I've never managed to win from those con artists."

"Well, as long as he doesn't bet the house, we should be all right," Remus said. Harry worried his lip. Truth was, he wasn't exactly sure Sirius wouldn't bet the house. 

"Cheer up, lad. Ivan doesn't accept houses as a bet." Patrick raised his whiskey and saluted them. Then he pulled up a stool for Harry and Harry sat down, joining in their conversation. 

After a while, Duncan showed up again and dragged Harry to the dance floor. Harry thought he was finally getting the hang of dancing and enjoyed himself, rubbing against Duncan while being squashed between strangers in one big, sweaty mess.

"I need something to drink," Harry said after the tenth or eleventh song. He'd lost count somewhere during a remix of an old ABBA tune he recognized from the radio that had often played in the Dursleys' living room. 

"Sure, dude." Duncan followed him back to Patrick and Remus where Harry gulped down a screwdriver before sipping on a second one.

"Oh dear Lord," Remus suddenly said, shaking his head. Harry turned and saw Sirius strolling towards them. Shirtless. 

"Lost fifty Galleons. And my shirt," Sirius muttered and glanced at the barkeeper. "A Guinness. Make it a pint."

"You lost your shirt in a poker game?" Remus asked. Harry was trying not to laugh. 

"Yep. And after that it was either my trousers or my blood so I decided to stop."

"Ah, yes, quit while you're ahead. Good thinking, Padfoot." Remus grinned, and Harry couldn't control himself any longer. He howled with laugher, leaning helplessly against Remus. Sirius scowled and then gulped half his Guinness down. 

"Look what I won," Ivan drawled, dangling Sirius' shirt in front of him.

"Sod off, you stiff," Sirius said, glaring at Ivan. 

"You can have it back," Ivan said, tilting his head. "And all it will cost you is a kiss. With tongue. Let's see if you're man enough to snog a bloke with fangs."

"I'd rather freeze to death."

Harry sidled up to Sirius and ran his hand down Sirius' naked chest. "Don't worry. I wouldn't let you," he said in his best seductive whisper. Sirius arched an eyebrow and then pulled Harry closer. 

"Do you want to go to the darkroom?"

"No," Harry said, rubbing his hardening cock against Sirius' hip. "I'm saving it all for later."

"Eager little puppy," Ivan said with an approving smile. Patrick rolled his eyes and grabbed Ivan's arm, pulling him half into his lap. 

"Ten...nine..." it suddenly sounded around them.

"Oh, it's almost time," Ivan said. 

"...eight...seven..."

Harry dragged Sirius with him towards Remus. 

"...six...five...four..."

Everyone around them was counting down and Harry felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach. 

"...three...two...one...Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year, Harry," Sirius said, and caught Harry's lips in a searing kiss. Then he drew back and kissed Remus just as roughly. Harry turned and pressed his lips to Remus'. 

"Happy New Year," Harry whispered, grinning. Beside them, Ivan had straddled Patrick and they shared a deep kiss, and Duncan had his arms wrapped around Fernando's neck. 

Sirius raised his pint of Guinness. "What do we drink to for the new year?"

"Voldemort kicking the bucket," Harry said, and clinked his glass with Sirius'. 

"I'll drink to that," Remus said, joining in with his glass of beer.

"Freedom," Sirius said, and again they clinked their glasses together. 

"Harry passing his NEWTs," Remus said. Harry groaned and Sirius rolled his eyes. "Only kidding. How about peace of mind?"

"I'll drink to that," Harry said, and took a healthy gulp of his screwdriver.

"Happy New Year, puppy," Ivan said, and grabbed Harry in a tight hug and gave him a firm kiss. "Happy New Year, dogboy," he continued, hugging a half-struggling Sirius. "And look what I just found." Ivan pressed the shirt into Sirius' hands. "I'm feeling generous tonight."

"Come here, lad." Patrick pulled Harry into a hug and Harry returned it happily. Then Duncan jumped onto his back, almost tipping them over, and after that even Fernando gave Harry a hug. Harry tried not to feel those eleven inches press against his stomach.

After a few more drinks, it was finally time to go home and Harry, feeling just a bit tipsy, let Remus lead him towards the exit. 

"You're not going to get yourself splinched, are you?" Sirius asked when they stepped into the night. 

"No, no," Harry said, and giggled. "Besides, as long as my cock gets home, everything should be fine."

"Are you sure werewolves don't get drunk?" Sirius asked Remus. 

"Quite." Remus grabbed Harry's hand. "Just follow me, Harry."

"Okay," Harry sighed, and then sagged against Remus and found himself in a firm embrace when he opened his eyes again at home.


	16. Chapter 15

Harry kicked his trunk open, pulled his mirror out and then shoved it under his pillow. He couldn't believe the holidays were over already and that he was back at Hogwarts again. His time at home had been far too short for his liking and because of that he'd been cranky all day. During the train ride he'd kept quiet most of the time, listening to Ron's and Hermione's stories about their holidays. And during dinner he'd pretended to be busy eating while in truth he hadn't felt that hungry at all. 

"How were your holidays, mate?" Ron asked, rummaging through his own trunk. 

"Fine," Harry said, thinking they had been bloody brilliant. But he really couldn't say that without having to give Ron a reason why they had been so great. And what could he tell him? _I went out in a vampire club and I came very close to having sex with Sirius and Remus in public and oh, by the way, I gave your oldest brother a handful of condoms so he could shag this girl with humongous tits._ Harry snorted at that thought. 

Ron sat down on the edge of his bed and looked at Harry with a frown. "They aren't mistreating you or anything, are they?" he asked softly. 

Harry snapped his gaze up. "What? No, of course not."

"You seem a bit depressed, is all." Ron shrugged.

"My holidays were really good and I'm depressed to be back here," Harry snapped, and then forced himself to take a deep breath. He was so tired of having to keep certain things a secret. Especially from Ron.

"So being locked up inside that house for two weeks was really good?" Ron wondered aloud. 

Harry sighed. He really wanted to share what he'd done during the last two weeks. He glanced at Ron, who was still looking at him doubtfully, and then at Neville, who was unloading his trunk but seemed to be keeping an ear on their conversation. Seamus and Dean were still in the common room and Harry knew he could trust Ron and Neville.

"All right," he finally said. "What do you two know of what's been discussed by the Order over the holidays?"

Neville dropped a robe into his trunk and turned to look at Harry. "They wouldn't tell us much. Except that they had spoken to potential allies and things were looking good for our side." 

Ron nodded his agreement. "Yeah, even Fred and George wouldn't say more than that. Mum probably threatened them because usually they have no problem letting things slip to us."

Harry reached for his wand and cast a quick locking and silencing charm on the door. Rolling his wand between his hands, he considered what exactly he could tell them.

"And it's not as if we won't find out soon anyway," Ron said, seemingly sensing Harry's reluctance. "When we finish Hogwarts, we'll join the Order. Or that is what mum promised we could do. She'd better not get back on that."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Okay. You remember the vampire Bill invited to our class?"

"Ivan something," Neville said, nodding. 

"Yep, that's him. Well, he has a boyfriend –"

"He's queer?" Ron asked, surprised. 

"Yes. Quite obviously so," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "But that's not the point. His boyfriend is a werewolf –"

"But I thought vampires and werewolves hated each other?" Ron looked puzzled. 

Harry glared at him. "Yes, they do, generally. Just not them. Now will you quit interrupting me, please?"

"Sorry," Ron mumbled and gestured for Harry to continue. 

"All right. So Ivan knows this werewolf, who happens to be a spokesperson of sorts for his kind. The Order invited them over and after much discussion they agreed to join our side. Well, the werewolves agreed. The vampires had a few demands the Order is trying to meet, but I think they will join us as well in the end."

"But I thought the vampires had joined Voldemort?" Neville asked, lowering himself to his bed. 

"No, those were just rumours," Harry said. "Voldemort did try to get them on his side, but that didn't work out."

"That's good news," Ron said, smiling. 

"Yeah, very good news for us. So Ivan and his boyfriend came over a few times to discuss Order things –"

"You had to put up with that arrogant ponce?" Ron looked appalled. 

"He's not that bad," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "Besides, he took Remus, Sirius and me out clubbing."

Neville looked awed. "You went out clubbing with a vampire?"

"Dude, did I ever," Harry said in a weak imitation of Duncan, and then laughed at the looks Neville and Ron gave him. 

"You're mental," Ron said, but Harry could see amusement written across his face. "Was it a queer club?"

"No, it was mixed, I suppose. There were blokes with blokes, girls with girls and blokes with girls. A bit of everything."

"Girls with girls?" Neville asked, intrigued. 

"Yeah," Harry said and he leaned forward, grinning. "The best part was the darkroom."

Ron gave him a blank look and Neville frowned. 

"It's this room in the back of the club where people go to shag," Harry whispered. 

"What, you can rent rooms there?" Ron asked, confused. 

"No, mate. There are rooms you can just walk into and see people shag. And you can join them if you want."

"Merlin's arse!" Ron jumped up from his bed and flopped down beside Harry. "You have to take us there!"

"Were there girls shagging girls?" Neville asked, his cheeks flushing crimson. 

"Yes!" Harry said. "Ivan took us in there and I looked around and there were these two women together. Naked! One had her head between the other's legs."

Ron shook Harry's shoulders, bouncing on the bed. "Mate! Take us there!"

Harry laughed and pushed Ron off him. "Maybe after school finishes and if Ivan is okay with it."

"That's six months away!" Ron grabbed Harry's shoulders again.

"All right, maybe during the Easter holidays," Harry said, punching Ron's arm.

"Um...did you do it there?" Neville asked, worrying his lip. 

"Huh? Did what?"

"You know, shag Sirius or Remus."

Harry snickered. "No, we just looked. I wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of dropping my trousers in public."

"Yeah, but looking is good," Ron said, his face flushed with excitement. 

"It sure is. All those blokes were so fit," Harry said and then snickered at Ron's shocked expression. 

"What's it like?" Neville seemed very small all of a sudden. 

"Shagging in public?" Harry asked, confused. 

"No, shagging blokes."

"Neville!" Ron's eyes were as round as saucers. 

"I'm just asking," Neville muttered. 

"Well, it's good, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't be doing it," Harry mused. 

Ron snorted and Neville chuckled. "But what's it like to do it?" Neville asked. "When we saw you...um...you had...you know...in your arse."

"Sirius' cock," Harry supplied, ignoring Ron's heavy sigh. "It feels very good, actually."

"How can it? It's your arse," Ron said, looking utterly lost. 

"Yeah, but you have a prostate," Harry said. "And feeling a cock rubbing across your prostate feels bloody good, trust me."

"I'll take your word for it," Ron said, drawing his knees up to his chest. 

"And do you...you know...do it to them?" Neville's voice was a bit louder now, as if he felt more confident. Harry nodded. "And what does that feel like?"

Harry frowned. "Hot and tight, really."

Ron seemed to consider that. "That's also what it feels like to shag a girl."

"Yeah," Neville agreed, and then shrank back at the glare Ron gave him. 

"And I got propositioned," Harry said, grinning. "Fred and George seemed quite interested in a shag."

Ron clapped his hands over his ears. "No, no!"

"What?" Harry looked at Ron in mock-shock. "If he can shag your sister, I surely can shag your brothers." Ron scowled.

"Nah, don't worry, mate," Harry said with a smile. "I've got my hands full with Sirius and Remus."

Ron's glare was still suspicious, but then he nodded.

"Hey, what are you all doing in there?" suddenly came from the other side of the door, followed by a few loud knocks. Harry lifted the spells, and as Seamus and Dean strolled in Harry went about getting ready for the night, feeling a bit better than he had done all day.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry slid into a seat beside Ron, filled his plate with breakfast and then stifled a yawn behind his hand before he took a bite of his eggs. He'd slept well enough, considering that his bed had seemed so big and empty after spending two weeks sleeping between Sirius and Remus. And while Harry still wasn't too happy to be back, he did realize that he'd made it through the first half of the school year, and that the second half would most likely pass quickly, what with their NEWTs coming up.

"When is our next practice?" Ron asked, sipping his tea. 

"Day after tomorrow," Harry replied, and set to cutting his bacon into bite-sized pieces. 

Just then the post came in, and the Great Hall was suddenly filled with owls dropping letters and parcels around the tables. Much to Harry's surprise, a barn owl flew in his direction and dropped a letter beside his plate before flying out of the hall again. 

Harry picked the roll of parchment up, wondering who it could possibly be from and the first thing he noticed was the wax seal stamped with the Ministry's crest. Lowering his fork, his stomach tightening into a knot, Harry broke the seal, unrolled the letter and started reading. 

_Ministry of Magic_  
Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.   
Werewolf Registry 

Harry was unable to read on since his vision had suddenly gone blurry and he thought he might be sick. Blinking his eyes, he looked up and stared right at the front page of the Daily Prophet which an owl had dropped beside Hermione's plate. 

'HARRY POTTER – THE BOY WHO BECAME A WEREWOLF'

A small part of Harry was sure this had to be a nightmare and that he was still asleep in his bed. It surely felt like a nightmare. Harry couldn't breathe and his head was suddenly light while it seemed as if his limbs had gained quite a bit of weight. 

"What's this rubbish?" Ron asked, affronted, picking up Hermione's copy of the Daily Prophet. Hermione, who'd had her nose buried in her Potions textbook, looked up. 

"Let me see that," she said, snatching the Prophet back from Ron. As she read the headline, her face went pale and her hands trembled while she lowered the newspaper. 

Harry still couldn't breathe. The Ministry letter weighed heavily in his hand but he wasn't able to lower his head to read it. He wasn't able to do much of anything besides wishing he was home with Sirius and Remus where things were safe and simple. 

"Harry?" Neville asked, sounding worried. Ron had turned in his seat and was staring at Harry. When Harry didn't respond, Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder to shake him. 

That snapped Harry out of his daze and he glanced around the table. Everywhere, he could see students holding copies of the Prophet, whispering urgently to their neighbours while they read the article on the front page.

"I have to go," Harry said. He wasn't sure where he'd go, but he knew he had to get out of the Great Hall if he ever wanted to breathe again. Crumpling the letter in his fist, Harry pushed himself up and then ran out of the Great Hall, knocking over two second-year Ravenclaws.

Harry ran and ran, rounding corners and climbing stairs until he was at a complete loss as to where he was. 

"Harry, wait!"

Harry's first instinct was to run away faster, but then he recognized the voice calling for him and he stopped.

"Harry," Bill said, slightly out of breath. "Merlin, you are fast."

His gaze fixed to the floor, Harry said nothing and raised the Ministry letter, his hand shaking. 

"Ah, fuck," Bill sighed. "I just saw the Daily Prophet. Dumbledore wants to see us all in his office."

"Okay," Harry whispered and glanced up at Bill. "He'll know what to do." Harry tried very hard to believe his own words. Even though he hadn't trusted the headmaster these last few years as he'd done during his first years at school, Harry wanted to believe Dumbledore would be able to fix this. 

"Come on." Bill put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and even though it felt uncomfortable, Harry couldn't muster the energy to shake it off.

Since all the students were still having breakfast in the Great Hall, they didn't meet anyone on their way to Dumbledore's office, and once they reached it, the gargoyle shifted dutifully to reveal the spiral staircase. Harry stepped onto it and while the staircase rose higher and higher, Harry felt as if his stomach could sink no lower. 

"Harry, Bill, come in, please," Dumbledore said from his seat behind his desk when Bill pushed the door open. 

Harry crossed the threshold, glanced up and saw Sirius and Remus standing near the fireplace. He crossed the headmaster's office in record time and flung his arms around both their necks.

"Sshh," Remus whispered, stroking Harry's back. "It will be all right."

"Yeah, what Moony said," Sirius said, nuzzling Harry's hair. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat, but Harry kept his arms wrapped around Remus and Sirius until Remus dislodged him gently.

"Please, have a seat," Dumbledore said, and conjured a steaming pot of tea. 

Sirius led Harry to the chairs and Harry sank down into one between Sirius and Remus. A knock on the door startled Harry and he turned to see Snape entering, his face set in his usual scowl. 

"Ah, Severus. Please, sit down." Dumbledore poured them all a cup of tea as if Harry's entire world hadn't just been destroyed, but Harry felt too numb to object.

"It seems that someone got wind of Harry's condition and brought this information to the attention of the Daily Prophet," Dumbledore said, folding his hands. "But since these are just rumours and they haven't any evidence, this isn't something that will affect Harry's situation."

Not looking at anyone, Harry leaned forward and dropped the letter on Dumbledore's desk. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken conclusions. 

"Bloody hell," Sirius finally said.

Dumbledore reached for the letter and scanned its content. "Unfortunately, what I feared has happened," he said. "The Ministry has heard the rumours as well and orders Harry to come for an enquiry during the day and night of the next full moon."

"They can't do that," Sirius barked, eyes narrowed. 

"Actually, they can," Remus said. Harry's breath was cut off and he gasped until he felt Remus' hand squeezing his own. "Decree twelve. The Ministry is entitled to question and test anyone if they have grounds to believe the individual is an unregistered Dark Creature."

"Yes, I'm afraid Remus is right," Dumbledore said, nodding. 

"But then they'll see for themselves it's true," Bill said softly, his face drained of blood. 

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied. 

"But they can't do that!" Harry yelled, finally having found his voice. "They can't just lock me up there to see if I'll transform!"

"If you don't go, they will send a team from the Werewolf Capture Unit to collect you," Remus said. Harry stared at him, but Remus didn't meet his eyes. He did squeeze Harry's hand again, but it did little to calm Harry down.

"What we have to do now is decide how to respond to this," Dumbledore said. He glanced at the letter again. "If Harry was to go to the Ministry and they confirm that he is in fact a werewolf, what punishment would await him, Remus?"

"He'll have to pay a fine for not registering," Remus said. "When I registered myself three years ago, I had to pay three thousand Galleons for not registering myself sooner."

Bill gasped and Sirius turned in his seat to glare at Snape, who kept his gaze fixed on his teacup. 

"Harry's fine won't be that high, since he only just got infected and besides, money isn't a problem." Remus pursed his lips. "What would be a problem is the Ministry discovering who infected him."

"Why is that?" Bill asked. 

"Decree one. Infecting another human being is punishable by death," Remus whispered. "They usually don't bother checking who has sired a new werewolf. When I registered, I told them my father had killed the werewolf who had infected me and they left it at that. But this concerns Harry Potter. I'm quite sure they'll want to find out who infected him."

"I'm not going," Harry said, an odd lump forming in his throat. "I'm not. No one can make me."

"We are still deciding that, Harry," Dumbledore said, and frowned. "Perhaps Harry could tell them he was infected while out on a trip during the summer. Lay the blame on a non-existent werewolf who randomly attacked him."

"That's not possible," Remus said, glancing up at the headmaster, who quirked an eyebrow. 

"I don't have a scar," Harry concluded aloud. "If I'd been attacked randomly, I would have a scar."

Dumbledore nodded. "What steps would the Ministry take to identify the werewolf who infected Harry?"

"They've been known to use Veritaserum," Remus said. "And there is also a spell to determine a connection by blood, but it is complicated and takes quite some time."

"Fuck," Sirius sighed, and stared up at the ceiling. Harry glanced between him and Remus and despair gnawed inside his chest, chilling him to the bone. 

"I'm not going," Harry mumbled again but Dumbledore ignored him this time. 

"So it seems if Harry were to answer their call, Remus would be in danger," Dumbledore said. "Then we must find a way to prevent Harry from having to go there during the next full moon."

Sirius snorted. "How do you plan to do that? Those Ministry buggers can do whatever the hell they please."

"I will appeal this order on the grounds that they have no evidence, or if they do have evidence that they present it to us. That might buy us some time," Dumbledore said. "And perhaps there are other ways to hide Harry's infection for one night." He looked at Bill and Snape. Bill frowned thoughtfully but Snape's expression was impassive.

"I'll see if I can find something," Bill said, and gave Harry a small smile. Harry was unable to return it. 

"I'm not going," Harry said again. They were the only words that kept popping up in his mind. 

"Bloody right you're not," Sirius muttered in agreement. 

"I suggest you all return to your classes," Dumbledore said. "I will contact you at once if a solution comes up."

Harry's eyes widened. He couldn't go to his classes now. The idea of having to sit in a classroom filled with whispering students all discussing what the Prophet had reported that morning was far too much for Harry to handle. He looked at Dumbledore pleadingly. 

"I'm afraid your absence would only confirm what everyone has read in the newspaper this morning," Dumbledore said, and gave Harry a grave smile. 

"His absence might fuel a few rumours," Snape said, and rose from his chair. "But rumours are of little importance as long as we present the Ministry with facts. Now, I have a class to teach. Good day." He turned on his heels and swept out of Dumbledore's office. 

Harry stared at his retreating back, wondering if Snape had just disagreed with Dumbledore on his behalf or not. 

"I suppose Severus is right. Harry, do you feel up to attending your classes today?" Dumbledore asked. Harry shook his head. "Very well. Then I suggest you go home with Sirius and Remus to catch your breath and I expect you back here by dinner tonight."

"Thank you," Harry whispered, and pushed himself up from his chair. His legs almost didn't support him, and he grabbed hold of Sirius' arms to steady himself.

"Thank you, Albus," Remus said, and then joined Harry and Sirius in front of the blazing fireplace. A few handfuls of Floo powder later and they all emerged from the fireplace in the kitchen of twelve Grimmauld Place.

"I can't believe – " Harry started but he was cut off by Sirius, who grabbed him in a tight hug, squeezing the air out of him. Harry didn't object, but wrapped his arms around Sirius just as hard. Remus pressed against Harry's back, stroking Harry's hair, and they stood like that for a long time, not saying a word. 

"Perhaps a cuppa is in order," Remus said at last, and pressed a kiss to Harry's mouth. Sirius released Harry, nodded and sank down in a chair, looking exhausted. Harry sat down beside him and noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet on the table. He pushed it aside, not wanting to see it ever again. 

"Have you read it?" Sirius asked. 

Harry shook his head. "Just saw the headline. That was more than enough."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "I saw it when I came down to make breakfast. Haven't read it either. Remus has."

"There's nothing in there but rumours," Remus said, filling the teapot with boiling water. "It says an anonymous source informed them that Harry's a werewolf. That's all."

Sirius snorted but Harry frowned, wondering who that anonymous source might be. 

"It could be anyone," Remus continued, levitating the pot and cups to the table. He sat down opposite Harry. "Bill figured it out on his own. Anyone might have."

Sirius added two lumps of sugar to his tea and stirred it viciously. "I say it's a bit of a coincidence McKinley and that stiff discovered Harry's secret and a month later it's in the Prophet."

Remus shook his head. "Patrick hasn't betrayed Harry, I'm sure. He wouldn't betray his pack."

"But I don't trust that vampire one bit." Sirius reached for the small can of milk and then pointed it at Remus. "He's got nothing to lose. He might have thought it amusing to betray Harry."

Harry thought about that. He couldn't imagine Ivan betraying him for the fun of it. Not after Ivan sat on his bed for a whole night, reading him Frankenstein. "I don't think it was either of them," Harry said. "They do have something to lose. The Order's alliance."

Sirius mumbled something unintelligible as he sipped his tea, and Remus nodded his agreement.

"And everyone else who knows is in the Order," Harry said, wrapping his hands around his cup to warm them. He was still feeling chilled, despite the fire crackling in the fireplace behind them. 

"Snivellus sold you out," Sirius said, looking at Remus. "I bet he did the same with Harry."

"Of course not," Remus said, shaking his head. "When Severus betrayed my secret, it was a petty way of finally getting back at us. It was before Voldemort had returned and the Order had been re-formed. I don't believe he would do anything to endanger Harry or the Order."

As much as Harry wanted to lay the blame on Snape, he had to agree with Remus. He didn't think Snape would do something that lessened their chances against Voldemort.

Sirius didn't seem convinced but dropped the issue of Snape anyway. "Who else knows?"

"Bill," Harry said. 

Both Remus and Sirius shook their heads. 

"And a club full of vampires," Harry whispered, glancing up at Sirius 

"Fuck," Sirius sighed.

Remus frowned. "But they have no connection with the wizarding world. They don't even know who Harry is, besides Ivan's friend."

"That's true," Harry said, and then he sighed. "It really could be anyone, right?"

Remus nodded and Harry sipped his tea, wondering how uncomfortable he'd feel at school from now on, knowing that anyone might have betrayed him. 

They spent the rest of the morning at the kitchen table, talking and trying to come up with a concrete plan, but during lunch they were forced to conclude that they hadn't found a solution yet. They then moved to the drawing room and spent the afternoon lounging on the couch, too anxious to do anything more than kiss and touch and talk about small things to keep their minds off reality for a while. 

"You should be heading back," Remus said at last. "We can meet you in the Shack tomorrow night if you want."

"I'd like that," Harry said. They got up and went down to the kitchen where both Sirius and Remus gave Harry a fierce hug and a bruising kiss. 

"Use the mirror if anything comes up, Harry," Sirius said. 

"I will. See you tomorrow." Harry grabbed a bit of Floo powder and called loudly, "Hogwarts, Dumbledore's office," before he stepped into the green flames. 

Dumbledore's office was empty, save for Fawkes, who seemed close to his next burning day. Harry gave him a little scratch on the head and then hurried out of the office and down to the Great Hall, gathering every last bit of his courage to face the entire school. 

There were only rumours, he told himself. No one knew for sure whether those rumours were true or not. As long as Harry acted like himself, nothing would go wrong. 

As he stepped through the opened doors, Harry swallowed back the bile that rose up from his stomach, ignored the looks and whispers around him, and strolled to the Gryffindor table, trying not to tremble too much. 

But when he looked up, he saw Malfoy standing beside their table, handing out sheets of parchment. Harry's anxiety made way for hot anger and he narrowed his eyes while he stepped up to Malfoy.

"...if we gather enough signatures, the Board of Governors will force Dumbledore to expel that beast." Malfoy turned and looked at Harry. "Ah, we were just talking about you, Potter," he said with a sneer. 

"What's going on?" Harry asked through gritted teeth, glancing at the pieces of paper Malfoy had passed to some students. 

"We refuse to let a monster endanger our lives each month," Malfoy said, and then waved the pieces of parchment in Harry's face. "So we've started a petition to get you expelled. It turns out even Gryffindors aren't comfortable having a beast in their House."

Blood pounded in Harry's ears and he glanced around the hall. Everywhere he could see students reading and signing the same sheets Malfoy was holding, and much to Harry's surprise and shock, most of the Gryffindors were among them. Only the seventh-years refused to accept the petition and glared at Malfoy, Ron's cheeks flushed with anger and Neville looking as if he wanted to shove his fork into Malfoy's face.

"You know," Malfoy said quietly, leaning closer to Harry, "if it were up to me, you'd find your neck on the Committee for Disposal of Dangerous Creatures' chopping block first thing tomorrow morning."

Harry didn't think, but pulled his arm back and punched Malfoy on the nose. Malfoy staggered back but managed to land a punch on Harry's left eye, shattering his glasses before Harry pounced, tackling Malfoy to the floor. Harry let his darker side out, the wolf he'd been during his last transformation, and punched and kicked Malfoy as hard and as often as he could before a strong hand pulled him off and shoved him away. 

"Enough!" McGonagall shrieked. Snape stood beside her, his eyes narrowed. "Fifty points from Gryffindor, Potter," McGonagall said. 

Harry met her gaze unfazed, brushing a bit of dirt off his robes. Ron had got to his feet, as had Neville, and Harry glanced at them but didn't know what to say to them. He didn't know what to say to anyone. He just wanted to get out of there because he didn't think he was able to see one more student sign the petition without wanting to punch someone. 

"I have business," he whispered to Ron, who looked lost. "Don't wait up for me."

And with that, Harry ran out of the Great Hall and straight to Gryffindor Tower to get his bag and Firebolt. He knew where he wanted to go. The one place besides his home where people wouldn't judge him for being a Dark Creature. And Harry thought Patrick might have some good advice. He had experience with the Ministry's laws, after all. 

Wrapped under his invisibility cloak, Harry flew to Hogsmeade as fast as he could and once inside the Hog's Head, he stormed up the stairs to find Ivan leaning in the doorway of room number three, giving him a smile. 

"We thought you might drop by," Ivan said as Harry entered their room. Harry nodded. He was too out of breath to say anything, and he looked up at Patrick while Ivan closed the door. 

"I saw the Prophet this morning," Patrick said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. "I assume you got post from the Ministry as well?" Harry nodded. "I'm sorry, lad."

Ivan ran his hand through Harry's hair. "Have a seat, puppy. We'll get you a nice drink and sort you right out."

Harry sank into a chair, dropping his bag and Firebolt to the floor. Then he slid off his broken glasses, placed them on the table and ran his hands over his face a few times, taking a deep breath. 

"Here you go," Patrick said, handing Harry a glass of wine. 

"Thanks," Harry whispered and wanted to reach for his glasses but they were gone. 

"How can you see anything through these?" Ivan asked. Harry looked up and saw Ivan had put on his glasses and was blinking owlishly while he glanced around the room. 

"Ivan, give the lad his glasses," Patrick said, sitting down in the chair beside Harry's. "You've got a nice shiner there, lad."

"Oh," Harry said and touched his left eye. It felt slightly swollen. "Yeah, I got into a fight with this bastard who had made a petition to get me expelled. He looked far worse, though."

"Do you want me to pay him a little visit, puppy?" Ivan asked, handing Harry his glasses. 

Harry was tempted to say yes but managed to restrain himself. He reached for his wand and repaired his glasses with a flick before he slid them back on. He fingered his wand and looked up at Patrick. He really wanted to know if they had betrayed him, even though he was quite sure they hadn't.

"Um...can I ask you something?" Harry mumbled. Patrick nodded. "Did you betray my secret?" The moment Harry asked his question he stared into Patrick's eyes and thought 'Legilimens' with all his might, tightening his fingers around his wand. 

"No, I haven't, lad," Patrick said, and Harry sensed a certain calmness, understanding and pity. Nothing that indicated a lie, and he nodded his thanks at Patrick. Then he looked at Ivan, who regarded Harry curiously from his seat opposite him. 

"Did you betray my secret?" he asked and again thought 'Legilimens' with everything he had, his gaze fixed on Ivan's. 

But instead of feeling Ivan's emotions, Harry was sucked into a tornado of thoughts and memories, stronger than any mind he'd ever penetrated before. There wasn't even a dark void, but a constant whirlwind of images and voices, and it grabbed hold of Harry and refused to let him go. 

Harry saw a small cottage, with tall mountains in the background, and a little boy playing in the sand in front of it. He couldn't be much older than four and he had wild, red hair, which reminded Harry of the Weasleys. When he looked up, Harry noticed he had light blue eyes. Ivan's eyes. 

A woman came out of the cottage, long, red hair falling across her back in a braid, and she crouched beside the little boy, stroking his hair.

And then Ivan stepped outside, and Harry realized it was Ivan when he was still human because the sun was shining and Ivan looked tanned. He walked up to the woman and the boy and smiled at them, saying something in a language Harry didn't understand. The woman returned his smile and the little boy jumped into his arms, and Ivan swung him around once before they all disappeared inside. 

And Harry felt good and at peace and he almost forgot that he'd somehow got himself stuck inside Ivan's mind because it was such a lovely place and everything seemed so right. 

But then the image faded and Harry realized what was happening and he tried to break the connection but it was too strong, so overwhelming. Harry couldn't draw back, he couldn't move an inch until another image came up, and then all Harry could do was stare in horror. 

The woman with the long, red hair lay lifeless on a bed in a small, dark room. Ivan sat beside her, cradling the little boy, shaking him as if to wake him up and talking to him in that language Harry didn't know. The little boy looked so pale, his lips blue, and Harry knew he was dead. Ivan snapped his head up and Harry saw blood staining his lips and dripping down his chin and –

Something threw Harry out of Ivan's mind and he found himself sprawled out on the floor in their room. 

"Harry, whatever you're doing to him, stop it!" Patrick yelled. 

Harry tried to focus his gaze and he saw Ivan's eyes again and they were oceans in which Harry knew he would drown but he couldn't look away, couldn't break the connection that was still there. 

"For fuck's sake, Harry, stop! I can't hold him!"

Harry tried. He tried to turn his face but all he could see were Ivan's eyes, and in the distance, Ivan's face, his nose wrinkled and his mouth opened, fangs bared as he hovered above Harry. Patrick was trying to hold him back, his arms wrapped around Ivan's chest from behind, but Ivan looked like a predator ready to kill and Harry realized he was the prey. But the undercurrent in Ivan's eyes sucked him right back in and Harry gasped when he felt something sharp pierce his throat. 

And then there was a vague sensation of floating and Harry's eyes fell shut, the insides of his eyelids oddly light until darkness overtook him. 

Harry recognized at once where he was and he couldn't believe he'd just died. Again. There was darkness, nothing but darkness, thick and sticky, but in the distance Harry could see a light and he waded through all that darkness, pushing himself forward and hoping he'd find a way back. That it wasn't too late yet.

He was never going to see Sirius and Remus again, Harry realized, and that thought gave him another surge of energy to resist the urge to lie down, which was so big. Just lie down and everything would be all right and then there wouldn't be any secrets to keep anymore or Dark Lords to worry about.

And then there was light, blinding and scorching, and Harry saw two figures becoming more and more clear. 

_Harry._

_Mum?_

_Yes._

_Harry, it's not your time yet._

_Dad?_

_Yes, son. Go back._

_Yeah, I want to go back._

_Good. Just turn around, Harry._

_I don't know where to go._

_You found your way back last time, didn't you?_

_Yeah._

_You'll find it again. Go, dear._

_Okay._

It cost Harry every bit of energy he had to turn away from that light, because it felt so welcoming and peaceful. But he had to go back. Sirius and Remus. Harry didn't want to think about never seeing them again or the grief he'd cause them if he didn't find a way back. 

So Harry ploughed his way through the darkness, unsure where he was going or if it would ever end. He didn't know how long it took him but it seemed like an eternity, and then finally Harry heard familiar voices in the distance and he focused on those, let them lead him out of the land between life and death. 

"Put your stick away. He doesn't need magic, he needs oxygen!"

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Ivan?"

"It's...twenty-one...called....twenty-two...CPR....twenty-three...love."

"You know CPR?"

"I've been around for five hundred years. You pick up a thing or two."

"Let me at least stop the bleeding."

"It's already stopped. My saliva took care of that...twenty-eight...twenty-nine...oh, I hear something."

"What?"

"Father Christmas landing on our roof."

"Ivan..."

"A heartbeat, what the hell do you think?"

"Ah, good."

"Give him some of your blood."

"What?"

"Well, I can't bloody well give him mine, can I?"

"He's a werewolf. I'm a werewolf. We don't do things with blood."

"He needs blood. I nearly drained him dry!"

"He'll regenerate it quickly enough, Ivan. Just keep his heart working."

"I'm trying. It's getting stronger."

"Come on, lad. How's your face, love?"

"Don't worry about my face. It'll heal. Come on, puppy. Still getting stronger."

"Harry? Can you hear me?"

"Puppy?"

Harry felt as if he was resurfacing after having been stuck under water for too long, much like he'd felt at the end of the second task of the TriWizard Tournament, and he gasped for air, his eyes snapping open. 

"Easy now, lad."

"That's it, puppy. Take a few good breaths."

Taking deep breaths was all Harry could do while he tried to focus his gaze. He saw two blurry faces hovering above him, staring down at him with worried frowns. 

"How many fingers am I holding up, puppy?"

"You're not holding any fingers up, love."

"Well, that was the test, wasn't it? Thanks for ruining it."

"What..." Harry managed to croak. 

"I was just about to ask you the same thing, puppy. What were you doing to me?"

Harry tried to sit up but a strong hand held him down.

"Just lie down for a bit, lad. Give your body a chance to recover."

"I tried...Legilimency," Harry whispered, seeing Ivan's and Patrick's faces clearly now. 

"I think his brain went without oxygen a bit too long," Ivan said. "He's talking nonsense."

"No, he isn't," Patrick said, stroking Harry's shoulder. "Legilimency is a form of powerful magic. I'm not sure what it's supposed to do."

"I'm betting that snapping my control wasn't what you were planning to do, was it, puppy?"

"No," Harry sighed, still unsure what exactly had happened. Ivan had attacked him. And then he'd died. He stared up at Ivan and noticed that the right side of Ivan's face looked raw and red, burned, as if someone had thrown battery acid over it. "What happened...your face?" Harry asked weakly. 

"Holy water," Ivan said and shrugged. "It will heal."

"It was the only way I could get him off you, lad."

"Oh."

Patrick stroked Harry's cheek with his calloused palm. "You're still far too cold. Let's get you warmed up." Before Harry could protest, Patrick slid his arms around Harry's shoulders and the back of his knees and lifted him off the ground. "Ivan, get a few blankets if you will."

Harry felt a bit embarrassed having Patrick fuss over him, but he was still too weak to do anything about it. So he let Patrick sit him down in the chair nearest to the burning fireplace and then Ivan covered him with at least three blankets, placed a pillow behind his head, and tucked him in. 

"Here, drink this," Patrick said, emerging from the bathroom. He handed Harry a small vial. "Standard healing potion. It should help speed up the regeneration of your blood. I keep it around for emergencies."

"Just like holy water?" Harry wondered aloud, poking his hand out from under all the blankets and accepting the vial.

"No, actually, I keep that around for emergencies," Ivan said, seating himself in a chair opposite Harry. "Give him water, love. He needs lots of water now."

Patrick nodded, summoned a glass and a jug of water and watched as Harry first downed the vial and then drank two glasses of water. Patrick placed a full glass on the coffee table and sat down in the last unoccupied chair. 

"What...what happened?" Harry asked quietly, glancing at them both. He was starting to feel warmer and his mind got less blurry. 

"An excellent question, puppy." Ivan's expression was tight, angry almost, and Harry swallowed. "One moment, we were having a nice chat, and the next moment my head exploded and my control snapped – and it takes a hell of a lot to snap my control, mortal – and I find myself with my fangs stuck in your throat, draining you dry while Patrick showers me in holy water."

Harry said nothing but lowered his gaze, feeling incredibly stupid. 

"That's about what happened, aye," Patrick said. "You asked Ivan a question and the next thing I know is Ivan freaking out, ready to kill you. My guess is you did a bit of magic on him."

"Um..." Harry mumbled. "I might have."

"So, puppy, this legilimy thing you mentioned earlier...what does it do?" Ivan asked, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

"Legilimency," Harry said, raising the blankets up to his chin. "It's magic to penetrate someone's mind. I wanted to see if you were lying or not."

Patrick pursed his lips and nodded slowly, but Ivan looked as if he wanted to kill Harry. Again. 

"You performed magic on me?" Ivan asked, his voice a threatening growl. "You forced yourself into my mind?"

Harry bit his lip. 

Ivan pushed himself up from his chair and paced across the room, halting near the window, his back turned to Harry. 

"I've been raped before, puppy. But up until now, people always insisted on giving it to me up the arse," Ivan whispered, his tone bitter. Then he glanced at Harry over his shoulder. "Congratulations. You're the first one who's ever fucked my mind."

At the mention of the word rape, Harry thought he might be sick and he swallowed a few times to keep his stomach under control. "I'm really sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to –"

"Be very careful before you finish that sentence," Ivan said, stalking towards Harry. He placed his hands on the armrests of the chair, his face hovering only an inch away from Harry's. "What didn't you mean to do? Get caught? Snap my control? Because I'm under the impression you did mean to penetrate my mind without my consent."

"I shouldn't have done that to you. To either of you. I'm sorry." Harry lowered his gaze. 

"Damn right you shouldn't have." Ivan released the chair and snatched Patrick's pack of cigarettes from the table. He lit one and threw the package down again. 

"Since when do you smoke?" Patrick asked, curving an eyebrow. 

Ivan stood near the window again, back turned to them. "I don't," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I quit forty years ago. But at the moment, having a smoke seems like a better idea than snapping his neck, doesn't it?"

All of Harry's intestines tied themselves up in a messy knot. He really wanted to bang his head against a wall for being so stupid. For having forced himself on two people he liked and respected. 

"I think I should go," he whispered, trying to get up. But Patrick was by his side instantly and pushed him back down again. 

"No, lad. You're in no condition to go anywhere." Patrick pulled the blankets back up and Harry sighed. "I think I'd best give Remus a call."

"No!" Harry almost jumped up from his chair, but for Patrick's hand still gripping his shoulder. "Don't call them, please. I'll be fine. I'll just stay for a while."

Patrick's gaze was suspicious and Harry looked at him pleadingly. He really did not want Remus and Sirius to find out he'd got himself killed again. If Sirius found out Ivan had drained him, even if it was an accident, well, Harry really didn't want to think about what Sirius might do if he did.

"All right," Patrick finally said, and let his hand fall off Harry's shoulder. "I'll make some tea. I could use a cuppa."

While Patrick tapped his wand against a kettle, Harry stared at Ivan's back, noticing his tense shoulders. 

"It went wrong, you know," he whispered. "I wasn't supposed to see anything. I was only supposed to sense how you were feeling."

Ivan spun around on his feet. "You had no business doing anything in here." He tapped his finger against his temple. "How I feel or anything else that goes on in here is private, do you understand?"

"Yeah, I do now." Harry stared at the glass of water on the coffee table, feeling utterly miserable. 

"Well, lad, I suppose you've learned your lesson then, about vampires not responding to magic the way we do." Patrick handed Harry a mug of steaming tea and after Harry accepted it, he poured a generous slosh of whiskey into it. He did the same to his own mug and sat down, giving Harry a searching look. 

Ivan stomped towards them, stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray and reached for the bottle of whiskey. He ripped the cap off with his teeth and put the bottle to his lips, gulping at least a quarter of it down before he sank into his chair.

"So what went wrong?" Patrick asked, sipping his tea. 

"I got stuck in his mind. In his memories," Harry whispered. He looked at Ivan, who was staring at nothing in particular, taking another gulp from his bottle. "I saw some things. Um...I think it was his son."

Patrick nodded and Ivan glanced at Harry, his lips pursed into a thin line. "Nicholai," he said quietly. "He was my son, yes."

"And your girlfriend," Harry whispered.

Ivan's lips curved up in amusement, something Harry was quite happy to see. "Anna. She was my wife."

"Oh," Harry said. "I thought she was...you know...you seemed a bit young to be married."

"I got married when I was seventeen," Ivan said, his face relaxing, his brow no longer furrowed and a smile dancing around his lips. "It was quite normal to marry at that age back then."

"Ah." Harry sipped his tea and then coughed when it burned his throat.

"And I'll give you a scoop. I was a virgin until I got married. I was such a good little boy in those days."

Harry chuckled, feeling a bit more relaxed now that Ivan seemed less inclined to want to kill him. Patrick snorted but the smile he gave Ivan was one of affection. 

"She was a good wife. The only woman I've ever bedded." Ivan took another gulp of whiskey.

Blinking, Harry stared at Ivan, wondering why he only ever slept with one woman. "Um..." he said and then glanced at Patrick. 

"I think the lad's confused why you only slept with your wife, love," Patrick said, amused. 

"Oh, well, in retrospect, I think I've always been queer," Ivan said, shrugging. 

"But why did you get married, then?" Harry asked. 

Ivan snorted. "Puppy, in those days there was no such thing as being queer. My father caught me and my cousin Milan snogging and wanking each other in the hay attic once when we were sixteen. He dragged me to the smithies – he was the local blacksmith – whipped my prick out and held a hot poker above it. And then he lectured me on how God had given me my penis to make children with, not to be letting my cousin play with it." Ivan grinned and Harry snickered. "He was quite persuasive. I married Anna the next year, and the year after that we had Nicholai."

Sipping his tea, more careful this time, Harry relaxed a bit further. "It looked like a very nice place to live."

"It was," Ivan said, his eyes oddly distant. "It was my home. Well, at least until that bastard sorcerer fucked everything up."

"Dracula," Harry guessed aloud, and Ivan nodded. 

"Yes. He came to town one afternoon and insisted that his horse needed shoeing. We -- my four brothers and I -- all worked for my father, so my two youngest brothers shoed his horse. When they were done, he said they'd done a lousy job, refused to pay us and then when my father got angry, he tried to take my brothers away to have them killed because my father had offended him."

Harry's eyes were wide as he stared at Ivan, listening to Ivan's story with a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

"But we, my family and the rest of the villagers, managed to drive him out and we thought we'd got rid of him once and for all." Ivan lowered his gaze, sloshing the whiskey around in the bottle. "Until I walked home a few days later, just after the sun had set."

"Did you...get turned then?" Harry asked softly. 

"Yes. One of his undead foot soldiers was waiting for me, drained me dry and fed me his blood. I hardly knew what hit me, and when I woke up again a few hours later all I knew was that I'd never felt so cold before and that I wanted to go home."

Patrick had finished his tea, got up to get another bottle of whiskey and filled his mug with it. When he offered it to Harry, Harry held out his mug and let Patrick refill it. The whiskey was strong, but it warmed him, and Harry decided he liked it. He glanced up at Ivan, hoping Ivan would continue talking because he was quite curious to hear what happened next. 

"So I went home," Ivan said, his voice quiet and tight. "And I crawled into bed with my wife, trying to get warm. And I don't remember much of what happened after that, only that when I woke up a while later, I did feel warm. But my wife and son were lying dead beside me."

"Fuck," Harry whispered, worrying his lip. 

"I realized then what had happened. What I had become. And when my father stopped by the next morning because I hadn't shown up for work, I asked him, begged him to kill me. But he said he couldn't. That I was still his son. And he would come back an hour after sunset that evening to burn my house down. And it was up to me to decide if I wanted to pay for my crimes."

"What did you do?" Harry asked. 

"I tried to stay. But in the end I couldn't. The Hunger drove me out right after sunset, and I fled the village and never came back."

"Wow," Harry sighed and took a gulp of his whiskey to drive away the chill that crawled up his spine. 

"Not many people know that story. Least of all mortals," Ivan said, and then nodded at Patrick. "He knows, of course. So, puppy, if I ever learn that someone let it slip, I'll know it was you. And trust me, I won't be very friendly when I come looking for you then."

Harry swallowed, remembering how threatening Ivan had looked just before he'd sunk his teeth into Harry's throat. "I won't tell anyone. I promise," he said solemnly. 

Patrick nodded and Ivan smirked. "See that you don't, puppy." He drank the last of the whiskey and dropped the empty bottle beside his chair, stretching his legs and propping his boots up on the table. He again looked every bit like the arrogant prick Harry'd always thought he was.

"Duncan was a minion too, right?" Harry asked, remembering his talk with Duncan at the club. Ivan nodded. "Did he...um...kill his family as well?"

Ivan snorted with laughter and slapped his thigh. "Hell, no. Duncan is...vampirically challenged. He lived in a small town in Massachusetts and after he got turned he went home, but his father chased him off their property with a pitchfork."

"That lad's a piece of work," Patrick said fondly. "You wouldn't believe he was a vampire if you didn't know he had fangs."

"He's so utterly without any talent," Ivan said. "He can't find a mortal's pulse to save his life."

Harry chuckled. "He said you suck at surfing."

"Oh, did he now?" Ivan said, narrowing his eyes at Patrick, who snickered into his mug. "Well, who wants to stand on a board anyway? Surfing is such a stupid sport."

Trying not to laugh, Harry took a sip of his whiskey and then choked on it. He coughed a few times, his eyes stinging with tears, which he wiped away quickly. 

"A strong drink, eh?" Patrick said, and Harry nodded. "How are you feeling, lad? A bit warmer already?"

"Yeah," Harry said. He reached for the puncture wounds on his throat, which throbbed faintly. "How long does it take for these to heal?" he asked, thinking about his date with Sirius and Remus the next evening. 

"They will heal quickly enough, puppy. A few days at the most. But you're marked now."

"Huh?"

Ivan's lips tugged up into a smirk. "You're marked. Technically, you belong to me now. No other vampire will ever touch something that's been marked by a Master Vampire."

"Oh." Harry tried to grasp that. "So it will scar?" Ivan nodded. "Bugger," Harry said, wondering how he'd ever explain that to Sirius and Remus. "Sirius is going to be pissed off."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "At you, I hope. It wasn't my idea to make you my dinner tonight."

"Yeah, I know. It was my own fault," Harry said. "I just don't know how I can explain to them that I died again without them blowing up in my face."

"You died again?" Patrick asked. "You were only out for a couple of minutes."

"Well...I went to the dark and sticky place," Harry whispered. 

Ivan nodded knowingly. "Then you died. Again. And that's not such a bad thing, really." 

"It wasn't exactly comfortable," Harry objected. 

"I imagine it wasn't," Ivan said, staring at Harry. "But dying does make you stronger in life."

"I'm not following you," Harry said, frowning. Patrick looked as if he were lost as well. 

"Your soul anchors itself inside you every time you die and come back." Ivan shrugged. "So you're a bit more alive, I suppose."

"Ah." Harry still wasn't sure what Ivan meant but he decided to drop the subject. It made him uncomfortable, to be talking about dying when he'd only just died an hour earlier. 

"Well, you're alive again and that's all that matters," Patrick said, giving him a warm smile.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, and then yawned. He was feeling better, although still weak. The warmth of the fire beside him and the whiskey inside him made him feel drowsy and his eyelids grew heavy. 

"If you're tired, get some sleep, lad."

"Yeah," Harry mumbled and allowed his eyelids to fall shut. He hardly felt Patrick taking the mug out of his hands, sliding his glasses off and pulling the blankets up a bit higher before he fell into a dreamless sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

Some time later, Harry woke to the sound of a creaking bed and soft moans. He felt drunk with sleep and tipsy with whiskey, and he cracked his eyes open to try to see what was going on. The chairs beside him were empty and when he glanced at the bed, he saw Patrick and Ivan. Slightly blurred and very naked. Ivan straddling Patrick and Harry could see Patrick's cock sliding in and out of Ivan's arse. His breath hitched in his throat.

Ivan snapped his gaze towards Harry, damp hair half-curtaining his face. "Did we wake you, puppy?"

Harry managed a nod. 

"Sorry about that. Do you want to join us?" Ivan stilled his hips, running his hands down Patrick's chest. 

"No," Harry whispered. He didn't want to do anything like that with them but he also found that he couldn't look away. "Maybe...just watch."

Ivan gave an amused snort. "You may watch all you like, darling. Right, love?"

Patrick tilted his head off the pillow and grinned. "Sure he can."

And with that, Patrick gripped Ivan's hips and bucked up hard, drawing a growl from Ivan, who raked his fingers across Patrick's chest before leaning down and capturing Patrick's lips in a searing kiss. 

Harry watched with a strange sort of impassiveness as Ivan rode Patrick harder and harder, the slick sound of Patrick's thick cock thrusting in and out of Ivan's arse sending little flutters to Harry's own prick. 

Maybe he could just touch himself a bit, Harry thought. With the blankets still pulled up to his chin, Harry fumbled with a few buttons on his robes and wormed his hand through the small opening and inside his boxers. He curled his fingers around his hardening cock and fisted it with lazy strokes, his gaze never leaving the two men on the bed. 

They looked good together, Harry decided. Ivan's pale, unblemished skin was the perfect contrast to Patrick's tanned, scarred body. Harry was reminded of Sirius and Remus in a way, but he quickly shoved those thoughts aside. He didn't want to be thinking about them now that he was looking at two other men. But he wasn't doing anything wrong, Harry reasoned. He was only touching himself and Ivan and Patrick weren't paying any attention to him, too wrapped up in their deep thrusts and kisses. 

Harry watched as their bodies started moving more erratically, and then Patrick bared his throat in a silent invitation which Ivan accepted without any hesitation. The moment Ivan sank his fangs into Patrick's flesh, Harry came, remembering the odd floating sensation and peaceful white light. He milked his cock, his hips jerking as he came down from his climax, and he watched how Patrick and Ivan found their release as well, Ivan pulling his mouth away from Patrick's throat to throw his head back, his bared fangs tainted crimson. 

His cock softening under his slow strokes, Harry couldn't stop his eyes from falling shut again and he was too tired to force them open. So he listened to someone moving around the room while hushed voices talked in whispers and then two cool arms scooped him up, blankets and all, and lowered him to a soft bed. 

"I'm going out for a bit, puppy. You can keep Patrick company."

Harry managed to crack one eye open and he saw a dressed Ivan lean over him to kiss Patrick. Then Ivan pressed his lips to the puncture wounds on Harry's throat and Harry was sure he felt the tiniest scrape of fangs across his skin but he was too exhausted to care. 

"Get some sleep, lad." Patrick pulled up more sheets over Harry and himself and Harry turned on his side, curling against Patrick and feeling warm and tired and safe as his mind slipped into sleep again.


	17. Chapter 16

A familiar voice woke Harry up, and as he blinked his eyes open and stared at the window he noticed it was still dark outside. 

"Yes, he's here. He's sleeping."

Harry rolled onto his other side and saw Ivan sitting in front of the fireplace, paging through a glossy magazine, not paying much attention to Remus' head, which floated in the fire. 

"Is he all right?"

"Sure he is. He had a little accident, though."

"An accident? What happened?"

"Well, he ran into my fangs."

Inwardly groaning, Harry watched as Remus' head turned in the fire and he knew Remus was talking to Sirius over his shoulder. His suspicion was confirmed a moment later, when Sirius apparated inside the room with a crack loud enough to wake Patrick.

"Harry!" Sirius was by Harry's side instantly, and Harry was grateful the sheets were still pulled up to his chin. 

"What?" Patrick sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Ivan?"

"We have company, love," Ivan said, his gaze still fixed on his magazine. "And Fergie should stick to maxi. Mini is really not her thing." 

"Huh?" Sirius said, looking between Ivan, Harry and Patrick in confusion. With a whoosh, Remus stepped out of the fireplace, taking in the scene before him with a frown. 

"I just fell asleep here," Harry muttered, trying to come up with an explanation for why he was lying in bed with Patrick. Something that didn't include him dying. "So Ivan put me to bed. That's all. I'll get up now. You can go home."

"Right. You just fell asleep," Sirius said, his tone one of disbelief. 

"You mentioned there was an accident?" Remus asked Ivan. 

"Well, accident is a big word, I think," Ivan said vaguely. 

Patrick slung his legs over the edge of the bed, reached for his wand and lit a few candles around the room. "The lad just dropped by for a chat," he said, and stifled a yawn. 

"He just...are you naked?" Sirius narrowed his eyes as he stared at Patrick, who was indeed still undressed. "Why are you naked and in bed with my godson? Harry, are you naked?"

Harry clutched the sheets. "No," he said indignantly. 

"I always sleep like this," Patrick said, giving Sirius a tired look. 

Remus sighed. "Dumbledore called us to say Harry was missing. Apparently your roommates noticed you didn't return, Harry." He rubbed his eyes, looking as if he too had only just woken up. "Can someone just explain what –"

"Harry, your eye!" Sirius grabbed Harry's chin and tilted his head to get a better look at it. "What happened to it? Did they hurt you?"

"No," Harry snapped. "I got in a fight with Malfoy and he punched me. I punched him first, though. He was handing out a petition to get me expelled."

"Oh." Sirius' tight expression softened considerably. 

"So, yeah, I came here for a chat. I just had to get away from there. From them." Harry shrugged. "And I had a few drinks and I fell asleep. That's all."

"I'm sorry, Harry. About the petition," Remus said, seating himself in a chair opposite Ivan. "But you can't expect people not to notice if you just stay out a whole night."

"I suppose. I'll go back in the morning." Harry yawned, pretending to still be very tired. Anything to get Remus and Sirius to leave already, before they figured out what really happened. 

"How about we take you home?" Sirius asked. "Get you cleaned up, heal your eye and get you some breakfast."

Harry couldn't find it in himself to protest, because it was exactly what he wanted. To go home again. 

Sirius seemed to take Harry's silence as consent. "Get up. We can use the fire." He grabbed the sheets, pulled them down and then his eyes widened while his entire body stiffened. 

Glancing down his own body, Harry realized what was bothering Sirius. He hadn't tucked himself away after his voyeuristic wank earlier and his limp prick was still exposed, evidence of his release staining his soft flesh. 

"Um..." he said, feeling heat rising to his cheeks and wishing the mattress would swallow him whole. 

"Relax, dogboy," Ivan drawled, throwing his magazine on the table and leaning back in his chair. "Nothing happened. We woke the puppy up and he decided to watch us. And touch himself a bit."

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding fervently.

Inhaling ragged breaths, Sirius turned around stiffly and glared at Ivan.

"We can talk about that at home," Remus offered, and Harry recognized his attempt to keep the peace, at least until they got home.

"Fine," Sirius said, still looking tense. He grabbed Harry's shoulder. "Get up."

Sirius hauled Harry up into a sitting position as Harry reached down to tuck his cock away and button his robes. But as he bent his head he heard a growl beside him and before he knew what was happening, Sirius grabbed his chin and turned it roughly, exposing his throat. 

"And I assume that's also just from watching?" Sirius' voice was quiet and cold and Harry flinched away from it. 

"No, that was an accident," he said, staring at his shoes. 

"You accidentally bit him?" Sirius snarled at Ivan, who looked back at Sirius impassively.

"The lad performed a bit of magic on Ivan that had an unfortunate effect on him," Patrick said. 

"You bit him?!" Sirius stomped across the room and Ivan rose from his chair, his gaze calculating as he stared at Sirius. 

"Yes, I bit him. He was stupid enough to try magic on me, which snapped my control. If you want to yell at someone, I suggest you yell at him."

"Sirius," Remus said, taking a hesitant step towards Sirius, who looked ready to kill. "Why don't we just go home and –"

"You conceited, undead bastard." Sirius growled, drew his fist back and punched Ivan in the face. Ivan staggered back and rotated his lower jaw once, but said nothing. 

"Padfoot!" Remus put his hand on Sirius' shoulder, but Sirius shrugged it off. Patrick got to his feet, staring daggers at Sirius' back. 

"You should bloody well keep your fangs away from him!"

"Oh yes, just blame the stiff," Ivan said quietly. "Come on, take another punch. It must feel good to finally let all that repressed anger out."

Sirius didn't hesitate and punched Ivan again, his fist crushing against Ivan's jaw with a sickening crack. 

"Sirius!" Harry jumped to his feet. "He didn't do anything wrong! It was my fault. I used Legilimency on him to see if he was lying about betraying my secret."

"And you just bit him," Sirius said, tightening his hands in Ivan's shirt and pushing him against the wall. "Were you afraid at being caught in a lie? I bet you enjoyed selling him out, didn't you?"

Sirius' words hit Harry like a Bludger, and for a moment he thought Ivan might have staged the whole thing to prevent Harry from learning he'd been the traitor. But then Harry remembered what he'd seen inside Ivan's memories and the story Ivan had told him afterwards about his past, and Harry realized Ivan had confided in him to show Harry he could trust him.

"He didn't betray me," Harry said. "Neither of them did. Let go of him."

"Release him, Black," Patrick said, his voice low and his fingers clenched around his wand. 

But Sirius didn't seem to hear anything they were saying and he pulled Ivan back a few inches to smash him against the wall again. "I bet you enjoyed finally sinking your teeth into him."

"No, as a matter of fact, I didn't," Ivan said, unfazed. "And I suggest you let go of me now, dogboy, before I show you what vampire strength is."

"Not before I wipe that smug look off your face, you sick bastard." Sirius slammed Ivan against the wall again and then punched him on the nose. Ivan growled and threw Sirius to the floor. He pounced on him and bared his fangs, but Sirius wasn't about to give up yet and managed to hit Ivan's face again. 

"You fucker. You miserable stiff. What gave you the bloody right to prance around undead while good people get killed?" Sirius hit Ivan's side with his knee and then groaned when Ivan landed his fist in Sirius' face. 

"You think you're the only one who's ever lost someone?" Ivan grabbed Sirius' hair, lifted his head off the floor and slammed it down again. 

"Enough!" Patrick yelled, glowering over both of them, his wand poised at Sirius. "Ivan, get off him." When Ivan didn't respond immediately, Patrick grabbed his shoulder and gave him a shove. "Now!"

Growling, his body stiff, Ivan released Sirius and pushed himself up to his feet. Sirius panted and glanced around the room, looking as if he only just realized where he was. "Fuck...I can't –" Sirius disapparated with a loud crack. 

Harry glanced at Remus, who looked both angry and shocked. "I think he went home," Remus said, and disapparated as well, leaving Harry feeling completely lost. 

"I'd better go after them," he mumbled, and stumbled across the room to get his glasses, his bag and his Firebolt. 

"Use the fire, lad." Patrick pushed a handful of Floo powder in Harry's palm. 

"Thanks," Harry said. He glanced at Ivan. "I'm really sorry for – "

"Just go, puppy. Make sure dogboy doesn't do anything stupid."

Harry offered Ivan a grateful smile and then threw the Floo powder into the fire. The green flames took him home easily enough, and Harry coughed as he stepped inside the kitchen. 

"Remus?" he called, rushing up the stairs. He heard noise coming from the drawing room. "Sirius?"

"Padfoot, please calm down," Remus said as Harry stepped inside the room. 

"I can't take this anymore, Moony." Sirius picked up a vase from the mantel and threw it against the wall where it shattered into pieces. "I can't take being stuck inside this house anymore."

Harry felt his heart hammering in his chest and an odd lump forming in his throat as he watched Sirius lose control. "Sirius?" he asked, his voice small. 

"Harry," Sirius said, and then turned his gaze away, staring up at the ceiling. "I can't be there when you need me, Harry. I can't be there to protect you."

Worrying his lip, Harry glanced at Remus, who heaved a deep sigh. 

Sirius' voice was softer now, but also more desperate. "I can't go with you to the Ministry to make sure you'll be all right."

"But I'm not going to the Ministry," Harry said. 

Snorting, Sirius looked at Harry. "I can't even come and see you play Quidditch. And I can't prevent that undead fuck from sinking his teeth into you."

Harry sighed. "That was my own fault. It really was."

"But I can't be there to make sure you don't do stupid things, Harry."

"Padfoot, even if you could walk around as a free man, you can't prevent Harry from landing himself in trouble around the clock," Remus said. "He's got quite a talent for that."

Sirius laughed bitterly. "But at least then I could give it a proper try. Now...I can't do a bloody thing."

As Harry watched Sirius, he got an idea and he reached inside his bag while he dropped his Firebolt to the floor. "Here," he said, stepping up to Sirius. "I want you to have this." He pressed his invisibility cloak into Sirius' hands. 

"Harry, no," Sirius said, staring at the cloak with wide eyes. "It was your father's. He left it to you."

"And now I'm giving it to you," Harry said with an awkward shrug. "That way you can come and watch me play Quidditch some time. And maybe I won't get into so much trouble anymore without it."

Sirius closed his eyes and pursed his lips. "All right," he said, his voice tight. "Thank you."

Smiling, Remus joined them and wrapped an arm around both their shoulders. "Feeling better now?"

Sirius nodded but Harry felt guilt burn in his stomach. "I have to confess something," he whispered. "I did something stupid."

"Let's hear it, then," Remus said, guiding them to the couch. They sat down and Harry glanced up at both of them. Sirius was still staring at the cloak in his hands, as if he couldn't quite believe he was holding it. 

"When I did Legilimency on Ivan, it snapped his control and he almost drained me and I died, sort of." That confession earned Harry nothing but silence. 

"Can you repeat that, please?" Remus asked after a moment. 

"I died. Again." Harry studied his shoes, his lips pursed into a thin line. 

"When I mentioned you landing yourself in trouble, I was referring to things like detention for punching Malfoy," Remus said, giving Harry a shocked look. "This isn't what I had in mind, exactly."

"I didn't know Legilimency would have that effect on him," Harry said.

"Well," Remus said and then stayed quiet, seemingly at a loss as to what to say. 

"Are you feeling okay?" Sirius asked. Harry snapped his gaze at him and nodded. "Are you hungry?" Harry nodded again. "I'll make some breakfast, then." Sirius pulled Harry into a brief hug and got up from the couch and walked out of the room without saying another word. 

"Will he be okay?" Harry asked. Remus grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed it. 

"Yes, I think he will be." Raising Harry's hand to his mouth, Remus pressed a kiss to Harry's palm. "Will you be all right?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I think so."

"Let's get some breakfast, then." Remus pulled Harry up as he rose from the couch. 

Harry crossed the threshold, stepped into the hallway and stopped, Remus bumping into his back. Sirius stood with his forehead leaning against the wall, the invisibility cloak bunched up in his fists and pressed against his face while his shoulders shook. 

He was crying, Harry realized, and that realization was quite the shock. He'd never seen Sirius cry before, even though Sirius had told him only recently that he'd shed a few tears in his past. It wasn't right, to see Sirius crying. Sirius was the strong one, wasn't he? He'd survived Azkaban. He'd risked his life over and over again to look after Harry.

As time seemed to stop around Harry, he realized Sirius was crying because of him. 

"Padfoot," Remus said. Sirius lowered the cloak and glanced at them, eyes bloodshot and his cheeks moist. 

"I can't lose you, too," Sirius said, his voice hoarse. 

For a moment, Harry was at a loss as to what to do, but then he decided to just follow his gut, which told him he wanted to be as close to Sirius as he could. He crossed the distance between them with hurried paces and threw his arms around Sirius' neck, pressing his face to Sirius' shoulder. 

"I can't lose you too, Harry." Sirius' arms tightened around Harry, driving the air from his lungs, but Harry didn't care because he wanted Sirius to stop crying and be happy again and make silly jokes and tell stories about his days at Hogwarts. 

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"You're not stupid," Remus said, pressing against Harry's back and wrapping his arms around them both. "You do stupid things on occasion. It's different."

"Like getting yourself killed," Sirius muttered. "Again."

"It was an accident," Harry tried, but Sirius snorted against his hair. 

"That won't make you any less dead," Remus said. 

"But I didn't die completely," Harry said, defiance blooming in his chest. "I came back."

"And how long do you think that luck will hold?" Sirius asked, pulling back slightly so he could look Harry in the eye. 

"They said it wasn't my time yet," Harry said, feeling very small under Sirius' narrowed gaze. "My parents said that."

"Did they also say when your time would be?" Sirius placed his hands on the sides of Harry's face. "So Moony and I can be prepared for it, the next time you manage to die and won't find a way back."

Harry swallowed. "They didn't say."

"That's what I thought." Sirius released Harry's face and stared down at the cloak, which had fallen to the floor. Harry looked at it as well and thought it looked particularly lifeless, draped over Sirius' and his own shoes.

"Harry, I think you need to see something," Remus said. "This way." Remus turned and walked back into the drawing room. Harry followed him, a bit confused about what Remus was up to. 

Remus stood in front of the desk and pulled the Pensieve they'd given Harry for Christmas closer. Sirius and Remus had already let Harry see some of their memories, all happy ones of their time at school with Harry's parents. But Harry had a sinking feeling that what Remus was about to show him wasn't going to be a happy experience. 

"Sit down, please, Harry," Remus said, reaching for his wand. Harry sank down in the wooden chair at the desk and watched as Remus tapped his wand against his temple and dragged a silvery blotch to the Pensieve – a memory, Harry knew. 

Sirius had joined them, invisibility cloak bunched up in his fists again, and he looked at Remus questioningly. 

"I want you to watch this by yourself," Remus said. Harry nodded and wondered why Sirius and Remus wouldn't join him. They'd always joined him in the Pensieve before, explaining things and laughing at their own antics. 

"Okay," Harry said, his voice suddenly hoarse. He leaned forward and gazed into the spinning liquid of the Pensieve, feeling it pull him in until the drawing room around him blurred into a dungeon room of sorts, dimly-lit and cold. 

Harry blinked, trying to get used to the sparse light when he heard a door behind him creak open. 

"Take your time, Remus," he heard Dumbledore say on the other side of the door. There was a mumbled reply and then Remus, a young Remus, stepped inside. 

Harry watched as Remus halted for a moment, seemingly composing himself, before he strode into the room further to two tables standing in the middle, side by side. 

"Prongs," Remus said, and Harry gasped. He only now recognized the shapes on the table, covered by white sheets. 

"God, Prongs." Remus stopped beside the first table, his head tilted as he looked down at the figure lying there. Harry moved closer, his stomach churning and his feet heavy. There was a body lying on that table, covered save for its head. Harry recognized the tufts of unruly black hair he saw behind Remus' form and he moved closer still. 

"I'm so sorry, James," Remus whispered, reaching out and placing his hand on the side of James' face. Harry's head suddenly felt very light as he studied his father's face. It was so pale, grey almost, and his lips were oddly purple.

"I had no idea it was...him," Remus said, moving his hand lower to stroke James' shoulder. "They haven't caught him yet but they expect to any minute now. He'll pay for this, James, I swear he will."

There was silence for a moment, and Harry watched as Remus bent his head, his shoulders shaking just a bit. Harry couldn't see Remus' face, but he had a good guess of what Remus was doing and that sight filled his own eyes with tears. He blinked them away quickly.

"Harry..." Remus swallowed, "Harry is alive. He's fine. I asked Dumbledore if I could...look after him, but he didn't think that would be a good idea. They're taking him to Lily's family."

Harry felt as if he'd just dropped fifteen feet. Remus had offered to take care of him? Dumbledore hadn't let him? He was about to ask Remus for an explanation when he realized this Remus couldn't answer him. It was only a memory, after all.

"Be at peace, Prongs." Remus leaned down and pressed a kiss to James' forehead. Then he moved to the other table and Harry followed him. He knew what to expect, but seeing his mother lying there dead still made Harry's skin shiver. Her hair seemed even redder now that her skin was so white. Remus stood beside her for a moment and then stroked her hair, trailing his hand down to her cheek. 

"I'm sorry, Lily. I'm sorry I couldn't stop him." Remus' shoulders were shaking again. "I'll look out for Harry. Even if they won't let me, I'll make sure he's happy, Lily. I promise." Remus leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lily's cheek and Harry's heart ached at the sight of Remus' moist eyes. 

Remus stepped back, looked at both tables one last time, bent his head respectfully and then turned around. He wiped at his eyes a few times before he disappeared through the door, leaving Harry alone with his parents' bodies. 

Swallowing, Harry moved closer to his father. He looked as if he were sleeping, his features relaxed. Harry was reminded of Ivan lying in bed, but he knew his father wouldn't open his eyes. Ever again. Harry reached out his hand and tentatively stroked James' cheek. It felt so cold. So dead.

"Harry," a soft voice suddenly said, and a hand curled around Harry's shoulder. "Come back, Harry."

Harry pulled back and gasped when he found himself in the drawing room again.

"You've been very lucky, Harry, thus far," Remus said quietly. "You were lucky when Voldemort wasn't able to kill you because of your mother's protection. You were lucky Dumbledore, Pomfrey and Snape were able to bring you back after the Quidditch match. And you were lucky Ivan wasn't able to kill you for good –"

"Actually, I think Ivan brought me back. He did CPR on me," Harry said. 

"Then you were very lucky Ivan knew CPR." Remus' tone had got more stern. "But your luck will run out one day, Harry. And that day, you will just be another body on a table and it will be Sirius and I mourning you."

"One day, there won't be a Dr Frankenstein to reanimate you, Harry," Sirius said, his expression guarded.

Harry said nothing, images of his parents' bodies and memories of the dark and sticky place flashing through his mind. That could have been him, lying there on a table. Twice, because of something stupid he'd done. Because he hadn't thought things through well enough. 

"I think I get it," Harry said, staring at the rippling liquid in the Pensieve.

"I hope you do," Remus said, stroking Harry's shoulder. "I'd hate to get that call from Dumbledore, to start arranging your funeral."

"Yeah, I'd hate that, too," Harry agreed. He sighed, unable to meet either of their gazes in fear of losing control over his emotions. 

"Moony, what's CPR?" Sirius asked suddenly, and Harry couldn't help chuckling at the suspicious tone of Sirius' voice.

"It's what Muggles do to save someone's life," Remus said. "Heart massage. Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

"Ah. That stiff saved your life?"

"Um...yeah, I suppose," Harry muttered. 

"Ah," Sirius said again, just a bit guiltily.

"Remus?" Harry asked, remembering what he'd heard Remus say inside the memory. "Did you ask Dumbledore to take care of me?"

A small smile tugged on Remus' lips. "Of course I did. You were...are...family, Harry. Dumbledore didn't think it was a good idea, because of the risks with my infection, but I begged him to let me have you."

Sirius swallowed audibly and Harry heaved a sigh, thinking how different his life might have been if he'd grown up with Remus. 

"Thank you," Harry mumbled. "I'd have liked that." He glanced up at Remus. "And you did keep your promise. You are taking care of me now." Then he glanced at Sirius. "You both are."

Remus chuckled. "I suppose. You're certainly not making it easy, though."

"Bloody right you're not," Sirius agreed, and then ruffled Harry's hair. Harry grinned and tried to pull back playfully.

"All right, are we all feeling better now?" Remus asked, and both Sirius and Harry nodded. "Then I think Sirius still owes someone an apology."

Sirius huffed. "I'm not going to apologize to that stiff, if that is what you mean."

Remus curved a daring eyebrow. "Then you may explain to Albus why we've lost a potential alliance with the vampires."

"Moony!" Sirius objected, looking horrified. 

"I'll get them on the fire. I'll be right back." Remus turned and strode out of the room, looking just a tad smug. 

Sirius bit his lip and fumbled with the cloak in his hands. "You can have it back, if you want."

"No," Harry said, placing his hand over Sirius'. "I really want you to have it. That way it might be easier for you to get out a bit more. And I'd like it if you came to a Quidditch match. We're playing Ravenclaw next week."

"I'll try to be there." Sirius grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him up from the chair. Harry let him and then crushed his lips to Sirius', but drew back when Sirius winced. 

"It's all right. Just be a bit more careful, if you will," Sirius said, and Harry noticed his lip was split, his cheek was swollen and his right eye was surrounded by a dark-purple bruise. 

"Sorry," he muttered, and kissed Sirius again, more careful this time. He slipped his tongue past Sirius' lips and sighed when Sirius teased it with his own. Sirius dropped the cloak and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, pulling him closer so he could deepen their kiss. 

"Are we interrupting anything, puppy?" came a voice from the doorway. 

Harry released Sirius and saw Remus, Patrick and Ivan entering. Ivan was holding an icepack to the left side of his face and when Sirius noticed it, he grinned. 

"Don't flatter yourself, dogboy," Ivan said, staring at Sirius unimpressed. "It's only to cool the burn from the holy water."

Patrick cleared his throat. "That burn is on the other side, love."

"Right," Ivan said, and shifted the icepack to cover the other side of his face, revealing a bruised cheekbone and a swollen-shut eye. "I believe you have something to say to me, dogboy?"

Sirius' grin faded and he stared at the floor as he shuffled towards Ivan. 

"Anytime now," Ivan said when Sirius kept quiet. Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again as if he couldn't find the right words. 

"You know, you hit like a girl," Ivan said, arching an eyebrow. 

Sirius snorted. "And you fight like a nancy-boy. What was all that hair-pulling about?"

"Well, it was either that or snap your neck," Ivan said, shrugging. 

Pursing his lips, Sirius looked down at the floor again. "Iapologizeforpunchingyou," he mumbled. 

"What was that?" Ivan replied, his lips tugging up in a smirk. "I didn't quite catch that, I'm afraid."

"I apologize for punching that smug grin off your face, all right?" Sirius said, glaring at Ivan. 

"Ah, that was much clearer, yes, thank you." Ivan gave Sirius a perfectly innocent smile. "It's still an hour until dawn. I could do with a spot of breakfast."

"I think you've dined enough already for one night," Sirius growled. 

"I'm talking about bacon and eggs, dogboy."

"Excellent idea," Remus said, trying not to grin at Sirius' annoyed expression. "Let's have some breakfast."

"You all right, lad?" Patrick asked as they walked to the kitchen. 

"Yeah. I'm okay," Harry said. He was okay. Still a bit weak, perhaps, and certainly feeling more aware somehow. Something was different and Harry couldn't exactly say what, but it seemed as if the colours around him were bleaker all of a sudden. As if the world had shed its innocence and was showing its true colours for the first time. 

Remus made a pot of tea while Sirius busied himself with cooking breakfast. Harry sat down opposite Patrick and Ivan and smiled his thanks when Remus put a steaming cup in front of him. 

"What was that petition you mentioned all about?" Remus asked as he slid into a seat beside Harry. 

"What I said. Malfoy made a petition to get me expelled. He said if they got enough signatures, the Board of Governors would expel me." Harry shrugged, but felt something bitter settling in his stomach at the memory. He took a sip of tea to try to get rid of it. 

"Well, they can't expel you until they've got proof, " Remus said, frowning.

"But if they get proof, then I'm afraid they will kick you out," Patrick added, giving Harry a sympathetic smile. He glanced at Remus who nodded his agreement. "I won't colour it prettier than it is, lad. If anyone ever finds out, or rather gets proof, the world will turn its back on you."

Harry lowered his gaze and sipped his tea again. "Yeah, I had expected that. I was just so bloody surprised to see people signing that petition. I mean...they know me."

"That won't matter to them. They've got such a strong picture in their minds of what a werewolf is supposed to be, that they'll turn against their own blood out of fear," Patrick said. Harry remembered Patrick's story of how his family had renounced him after his infection and he heaved a deep sigh. 

"I'm afraid it's true, Harry," Remus said. "The wizarding world is ruled by prejudice in many ways. When it comes to blood and when it comes to non-humans."

"Just fuck 'm, puppy," Ivan said, giving Harry a bright smile. "You're one of us now. Let those mortals shun you all they want. You don't need any of them."

Harry tried to smile but didn't quite manage it. "I just don't know how I can face them again. I think I'll go bonkers if they keep whispering about me behind my back."

Ivan snorted. "I'll tell you how you can face them again, puppy. You need to learn to stand above all that. You're better than them. Stronger. You've got two souls, for fuck's sake."

Patrick shook his head while Remus gave Ivan a questioning look, but Harry gazed at Ivan thoughtfully.

"Just give myself a custom-made attitude and allow myself to go a little bit mad, right?" Harry said, remembering Ivan's words from the night he'd read Frankenstein.

"Exactly," Ivan said with a smirk. 

"And if they give you any problems, you just punch their lights out," Sirius said, levitating filled plates to the table. "What?" he asked, offended, when Remus shot him a dirty look. 

Harry snickered. "I already did that," he said, pointing at his swollen eye. "Malfoy looked far worse, though."

"You can't go around punching people," Remus said, but none of the other men backed him in that. Remus sighed. "Really, if you do that, you'll spend the rest of the year in detention, Harry, and then you'll have to do without sex until you finish school."

Harry swallowed. Remus had a good point there, he thought. "All right. I'll try not to punch anyone."

Sirius sat down and they all started on their breakfast, not saying much, for which Harry was grateful. It gave him a moment to contemplate everything. The idea of all the students turning their backs on him wasn't a very pleasant one, but perhaps Ivan had a point. Perhaps Harry just had to learn not care about that. 

"I think I will tell my friends, though," he said after he'd finished his plate. "I mean, now that the rumours are out, I think it would be best if they know the truth."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. Remus frowned for a moment, but then nodded his agreement as well. 

"I'm just not sure how they will react," Harry said, worrying his lip. 

"If they're really your friends, it won't matter to them," Remus said, giving Sirius a smile. "And if it does matter to them, well, then at least you know who your real friends are and who aren't."

A sizzling sound interrupted them, and when Harry turned in his seat he saw Dumbledore's head in the fire. 

"Ah, I see you've located Harry," Dumbledore said. "Do you mind if I come through?"

"Not at all," Sirius said, and Dumbledore stepped out of the flames a moment later. He looked at them and his gaze lingered on Sirius, Ivan and Harry a second longer than on the rest. Then his lips curled up in a smile and his blue eyes twinkled. 

"Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. "I'm sorry for sneaking out, but I just couldn't stand it anymore."

"Yes," Dumbledore said with a thoughtful nod of his head. "I agree Mr Malfoy's petition was quite inappropriate." Dumbledore's gaze travelled down Harry's features and then his eyes widened just for a moment and he glanced at Ivan. 

"I can explain that, sir," Harry said hurriedly. He really didn't feel like confessing to his own stupidity, but a large part of him figured now was the time to 'fess up to things and take responsibility for what he had done. 

Dumbledore nodded at him to continue. 

"I tried Legilimency on Ivan," Harry whispered, staring at his empty plate miserably. "And it snapped his control so he attacked me. Patrick stopped him, though."

"Ah, I see," Dumbledore said, his frown a tad disappointed. "I believe I told you Legilimency is powerful magic and shouldn't be take lightly."

"I know," Harry said, and resisted the urge to shrug. "I just didn't realize it might not work on a vampire."

"Legilimency is about controlling someone else's mind," Dumbledore said. "You force control over someone's mind so that it will allow you to see and feel their emotions."

"I knew that," Harry said, confused. 

"But I don't think you understood it completely," Dumbledore replied. "Otherwise you would have known that a seventeen-year-old mind doesn't stand a chance against a five-hundred-year-old one. I daresay I'm not even strong enough to control Mr Storkavic's mind."

"I suggest we don't find out," Ivan said. "I've had enough magic for one night, if you don't mind."

Dumbledore smiled. "I quite agree with you, Mr Storkavic." Then he looked at Harry again. "I came to take you back to school, Harry."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I guess I have to get back." He didn't want to go back, of course, but he knew he had no choice. He got up from his chair and picked up his broom and bag. 

"You'll see us tonight, Harry," Remus said with a warm smile. 

"Remember, puppy. You're better than all of them," Ivan said as Patrick snorted. 

"And..." Sirius made a fist and then quickly lowered it when Remus glared at him. Harry chuckled and accepted a handful of Floo powder from Dumbledore. 

"To my office, please, Harry."

Harry stepped into the green flames and let them take him back to Hogwarts. 

Dumbledore dismissed him with a smile and a nod and Harry hurried to Gryffindor Tower where everyone had just woken up and was busy with getting dressed. As he stepped inside their dormitory, Harry ignored Neville's gasp and Ron's worried frown and collected clean clothes before he disappeared into the bathroom. After a quick shower and an even quicker shave, Harry pulled on the jumper he'd selected and was pleased to see that the high collar hid the puncture wounds on his throat. 

"Harry," Ron started as Harry stepped inside their bedroom again. 

Harry lifted a hand to silence him. "I'll explain. Everything." He glanced at Neville. "We can go to the Room of Requirement now if you want."

Much to Harry's surprise, Ron didn't even complain about missing breakfast, but nodded his consent, as did Neville. They made their way down to the common room, in which they found Hermione and Ginny.

"Come on," Harry said, and neither girl needed any extra explanation. They all followed him out of Gryffindor Tower and up the stairs until Harry stopped in front of the Room of Requirement. As he pushed the door open, Harry didn't think of anything particular that he needed at that moment, but when he entered the room he was pleasantly surprised to find a comfortable sitting room. It looked suspiciously like both the drawing room in Grimmauld Place and Ivan's and Patrick's room in the Hog's Head. 

"Have a seat," Harry said, gesturing towards the couch and the chairs. As his friends sat down, Harry lowered himself in one of the leather chairs and took a deep breath. 

"I assume you all saw that article?" he asked quietly. They all nodded in response. "Well, it's true what they said."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, and then someone inhaled a sharp breath. 

"What?" Ron gasped. Ginny paled and Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth in shock. 

"It's true. I'm a werewolf," Harry said. He folded his hands in his lap to stop them from trembling. 

"Wait...what?" Ron tried again, glancing between Harry and the rest of their friends. 

"But how?" Neville asked, his eyes wide and a small flush staining his otherwise pale cheeks. 

"It was an accident," Harry said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "During the summer, I played with Moony and he infected me."

"God, Harry," Hermione sighed. Ginny looked as if she'd lost her ability to speak altogether.

"No one can know," Harry said, his voice louder now. "That's why I couldn't tell you before. But now someone has voiced their suspicion and I'm facing an enquiry at the Ministry. If they find out who infected me, they might..." He couldn't finish his sentence and swallowed against the lump in his throat. 

"They might what?" Ron asked. 

"Kill Remus," Harry whispered, staring at his shoes. 

"Bloody hell." Ron leaned back in the couch and ran a hand across his face. 

"Yeah," Neville agreed. "And now what?"

Harry shrugged. "Now nothing. Dumbledore is trying to find a way to stop the enquiry. That's all we can do. The Dark Creatures laws are unfair, to say the least."

"There must be a way around it," Hermione said with a thoughtful frown. 

"They're trying to find one," Harry said. "We've got until the next full moon. Then I'm expected at the Ministry."

"I'm really sorry, Harry," Ginny said, her voice tight. Harry shrugged again, trying not to notice her moist eyes. 

"It's...well, it's not easy, but it happened and there's nothing I can do about it now," Harry mumbled. 

"Is that why you were acting so strangely?" Neville asked softly. Harry nodded. 

"It does explain a lot," Hermione said. 

"Yeah," Ron chimed in. "We were all worried you might be possessed by You-Know-Who." He let out a shrill laugh. 

"No. I'm possessed by a different kind of monster," Harry said, and Ron snapped his mouth shut and looked apologetic.

"Look, it doesn't concern you. Any of you. I have to deal with this on my own," Harry said. 

"Not necessarily," Hermione said, giving Harry a small smile. "We're still your friends, Harry, if you want us to be."

Harry swallowed. "Yeah, I know, but..." He had no idea how he could explain to them what it was like to be a werewolf. Harry didn't think they would ever understand that.

 

"And you're still Harry, mate," Ron said hopefully. 

"Mostly, yeah." Harry tried to smile. "But a lot of things have changed."

"We haven't," Neville said. 

"We're still here if you need us," Ginny added. 

"All right. Thanks," Harry said, taking a deep breath. 

"Are you taking the Wolfsbane Potion?" Hermione asked, and Harry nodded in reply. 

"That's good, right?" Ron said, perking up. "I mean, Lupin seemed to be doing well with that potion, wasn't he?"

Harry wanted to snap something in return about a beast living inside of him twenty-four hours a day, but he realized Ron had no idea about that and was just trying to accept the situation. And Harry was grateful his friends hadn't run screaming from the room yet. 

"It makes things a bit easier, yeah," he finally said, which earned him a bright smile from Ron. 

"And you're with Remus and Sirius. That must help as well," Neville offered. 

Harry inwardly snorted but gave Neville a smile. "It does."

"Well, then there's no problem, really, is there?" Ron got up from the couch. "You're still our friend, mate, whether you like it or not."

Harry laughed away the frustration he felt. "Please don't tell anyone," he said, pushing himself up from his chair. 

"We won't," Hermione said, and Ginny added, "We promise."

"Let's get to class, before Snape gives us all detention," Harry said with the brightest smile he could muster. The rest nodded and they left the Room of Requirement behind them and didn't say much on their way back to Gryffindor Tower. 

As Harry stuffed his Potions textbook into his bag, he spotted the Frankenstein paperback in his trunk and pushed it inside his bag as well on impulse. Then he reached for the mirror under his pillow and also put it into his bag as a reminder that he wasn't alone in this. 

While he made his way to the dungeons, Hermione walking quietly beside him, Harry thought about all the advice he'd got earlier that day. _Don't lose your control, don't punch anyone and you're better than the rest._ Harry decided to ignore Sirius' advice, even though punching Malfoy the previous evening had felt good. 

Snape glared at them when they entered the classroom. "Ten points from Gryffindor for being late," he snarled, but said nothing else as Harry and Hermione sat down at the last unoccupied desk. 

"As I was saying to the students who did manage to get here on time, today you'll be making a truth serum." Snape turned and added the list of ingredients to the blackboard with a flick of his wand. "I'll be testing it on a few volunteers later, so be sure to get it right, lest you want to poison yourselves."

Harry was grateful he was paired with Hermione that morning, because he had a hard time concentrating as he chopped the ingredients. Malfoy kept giving him smug looks, which made Harry want to throw his knife at Malfoy's face, and the rest of the students were obviously whispering about more than just the truth serum they were brewing.

"Just ignore them, Harry," Hermione said quietly, stirring their potion. Harry nodded and watched as the serum started boiling and turned a pale shade of pink. 

"It looks about right," Hermione said brightly. 

"We shall see about that," Snape said behind their backs, startling Harry. "Potter, you're volunteering."

Harry turned and glared at Snape. "Sir," he started, hot fury flaring in his chest. 

"Are you refusing to try your own potion, Potter?" Snape asked with a curve of his eyebrow. "Do you want to spend the rest of the year in detention with Mr Filch?" Harry shook his head. "Good. Then drink a spoonful of your serum."

Harry stirred the potion once more and then scooped up a spoonful and drank it. 

"It will take effect in about thirty seconds," Snape said, smirking. "And the effects will last for about half an hour."

Harry swallowed while Hermione cast him a desperate glance. 

"Now, for the burning question we've all been waiting to hear answered," Snape said, crossing his arms. "Mr Potter, tell me, are you a homosexual?"

Harry stared at Snape for a moment, feeling as if Snape had just slapped him in the face. He tried to deny it because he didn't want to give Snape the pleasure of embarrassing him. No, he thought as hard as he could. "Yes," he said quietly. 

"Your potion is adequate," Snape replied and turned on his heel to question two Slytherins about their serum. Harry stared at his cauldron, wondering what the hell Snape had just done that for. 

"You are dismissed," Snape said a moment later as the bell rang in the corridor. "I expect a six-foot essay on truth serums from all of you on Monday."

As Harry stuffed his vials and book back into his bag, Snape brushed past him and pressed a small vial into his hands. "Antidote," was all Snape whispered, and then he swept to his desk. Harry stared at the vial for a moment, confused, and then he finally got what Snape was trying to do and he couldn't help grinning at Snape. But Snape ignored him, busying himself with something on his desk.

When everyone had left the classroom save Hermione, Harry quickly downed the contents of the vial and slung his bag over his shoulder. As he expected, Malfoy was waiting for him in the corridor.

"So, Potter, are you a filthy werewolf?" Malfoy asked, smirking. 

Harry stared at him evenly. "No," he said, and ignoring the surprised look on Malfoy's face, Harry pushed past him and walked to his next class, inwardly grinning from ear to ear.

*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the day went as well as could be expected. A lot of students whispered quite obviously whenever Harry passed them or sat down to eat in the Great Hall, but Harry didn't see one copy of the petition, which put his mind at ease just a bit. Perhaps Dumbledore had called Malfoy on it, Harry thought. After supper, Harry felt exhausted, the last twenty-four hours catching up with him.

"I think I'm going to lie down for a bit," he said to Ron and Hermione in the common room. "I've got business later, but I can't keep my eyes open."

"Sure, mate," Ron said while Hermione smiled at him from behind the book she was reading. 

Harry trotted up the stairs to their dormitory, kicked off his shoes and lay down on the sheets. He cast a quick waking spell on his clock and closed his eyes. His mind gave into his need for sleep almost immediately, and Harry's dreams took him to the dance club where he watched Duncan dancing with Ivan and he told Sirius that no, he didn't want to have sex in the darkroom but perhaps they could shag in Snape's classroom later, which Remus thought was a good idea. 

But there was a white door beside the bar, a door Harry had never seen before, but now that he'd discovered it he couldn't take his eyes off it. He got up from his stool and strode towards it, thinking he had to find out what was lying behind that door because it was important. 

The metal door handle felt cold, freezing almost, and Harry pushed it down and opened the door, and then Harry found himself inside a white room. Everything was white. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, except that there didn't seem to be any floor or walls or ceiling, only white. 

"Harry Potter," said an unfamiliar voice behind him. Harry turned on his heels and saw a cloaked and hooded figure, and for a moment he thought it was Ivan. But he didn't look like Ivan and he didn't sound like Ivan, and Harry didn't think he'd be dreaming about Ivan in a white room. 

"Harry Potter, the werewolf," the man said. Harry swallowed. 

"Who are you?" he asked. 

"That is not important. The question is, who are you?"

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, shrugging. "You already said so."

"I did, yes. But you're more than Harry Potter. You're a beast, aren't you, boy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. 

"I think you do," the man said, pacing across the white room that wasn't really a room. "You are a beast. A monster."

"I'm not a monster," Harry snapped, feeling anger rise in his chest. "I'm just Harry."

"Harry the werewolf." The man stopped, his black hood concealing his face. "How does it feel to be a beast, Harry? How does it feel to want to kill?"

"That's none of your business."

"It feels good, doesn't it?"

A shrill beeping noise woke Harry with a start and he sat up in his bed, gasping for breath. A flash of searing pain blinded him for a moment and it took Harry a few seconds to realize his scar hurt. His scar hadn't hurt since before the summer. Since he'd mastered Occlumency. 

"Bloody hell," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. The pain ebbed away into a faint throb, and Harry glanced at his clock to see it was almost nine. Time to meet Sirius and Remus. 

Harry got up, reached for his bag and wanted to pull his invisibility cloak out, but then he realized he'd given it to Sirius. He'd just have to make due with the Marauder's Map to make his way to the Shrieking Shack unseen. 

"Don't wait up for me," he told his friends in the common room, and then slipped out through the portrait hole. Keeping a careful eye on the map, he sneaked towards the Whomping Willow and down into the passageway.

"Hey, Harry," Remus said when Harry climbed up through the trapdoor. Sirius pressed a rough kiss on Harry's lips and Harry relaxed in his embrace. 

"How was your day?" Remus asked, stroking Harry's hair and giving him a kiss. 

"Snape did something really cool," Harry said, grinning. 

Sirius gasped. "Who are you and what have you done with our Harry?"

Laughing, Harry slapped Sirius' chest and then told them what had happened during his Potions class. 

"Quite clever," Remus said. Sirius snorted, but didn't object, which, for Sirius, came as close to agreeing on something Snape had done as he ever would. Harry grinned and kissed him, feeling happy and relaxed to be with his lovers again. 

"Are you feeling up to visiting your friends?" Remus asked. Harry frowned at him in confusion. "Patrick's contacted a few of his werewolf friends today and I thought we could go and see if he's got news," Remus explained. Harry stared at him in surprise and then glanced at Sirius, who shrugged. 

"Yeah, sure," Harry said. 

"We can apparate to their room. They are expecting us, so we shouldn't be walking in on anything inappropriate," Remus said, and Harry snickered, thinking that with Ivan you never really knew. 

"I'll go first. You can follow me." Remus gave Harry one last kiss and then apparated with a crack. Harry smiled at Sirius, closed his eyes and concentrated on the room in the Hog's Head. When he opened his eyes a moment later, he found himself there. 

"Hey, puppy," Ivan said from beside the bed. "Are you sure you haven't see my shirt, love?"

Patrick let out an exasperated sigh. "No, Ivan, I haven't seen it as I've told you a hundred times already."

"It's got to be here," Ivan muttered, pulling clothes out of the wardrobe. Harry noticed the bed was covered in clothes already and he snickered. Sirius appeared beside Harry and rolled his eyes at the sight of Ivan upturning his entire collection of leather trousers. 

"I like that shirt," Ivan said to no one in particular. "Hey, dogboy."

"Hello, stiff," Sirius replied, but Harry could see a grin tugging on Sirius' lips. 

"Come sit down, lad," Patrick said, and Harry slid into a chair beside Remus. Patrick poured them all a glass of wine and then sat down as well, looking thoughtful. 

"I talked to Richard today," he said. 

"Oh, Richard, how is he doing?" Remus asked, sipping his wine. Harry wondered who the hell Richard was, and he could tell by the frown tugging on Sirius' brow that Sirius was wondering the same thing. 

"He's doing all right. He and Maggie got married about three years ago," Patrick said to Remus, who smiled in return. "I explained the situation to him, but he couldn't think of anything either, except to appeal the order, but that will only buy you time."

"Yes, I was afraid of that," Remus said and then sighed.

"Found it!" Ivan held up a blue shirt triumphantly and then shed the white shirt he was wearing and quickly slipped the new shirt on. Harry noticed that the holy water burn on his face was mostly healed, as were the bruises Sirius had given him the previous night. Ivan smiled winningly and joined them in front of the fireplace, seating himself on the armrest of Patrick's chair. 

"If nothing else comes up, fleeing the country seems like the only option," Patrick said, ignoring Ivan.

"Oh, we can all go on a little trip. Barbados is lovely this time of year," Ivan said. 

"Shut it, Ivan."

"I'm just trying to be helpful. How about Jamaica?"

"I don't want to flee the country," Harry said quietly. 

"We won't, Harry," Remus said, leaning over to give Harry's knee a squeeze. 

"Not unless Aurors show up on our doorstep to drag both of you to Azkaban," Sirius said. "And I don't think Dumbledore will let it come to that."

"Yeah," Harry said, and sipped his wine, quietly wondering how on earth Dumbledore could oppose the entire Ministry. 

"Did you talk to your friends?" Remus asked. Harry nodded. "How did they react?"

"Shocked, mostly," Harry said. "Ron seemed in denial a bit, but none of them ran away screaming, so I suppose that's good."

Ivan snorted, as did Sirius, which resulted in them glaring at each other. 

"Yes, I think that is good," Remus offered with a smile. 

"How about a round of poker, dogboy?" Ivan asked, weaving his fingers together and then cracking them. 

"Bring it on," Sirius replied, smirking.

"You want to join us, puppy?"

"No, thanks," Harry said, and glanced up at Remus. "I've got homework still."

"Get to it, then," Remus said, and Harry lowered himself to the floor with a sigh. He settled on the rug in front of the fire and pulled out his Charms textbook and a sheet of parchment. As he went about writing an essay on illusion charms, Patrick invited Remus to a game of chess, which Remus accepted. 

Sipping his wine, Harry glanced around the room and smiled. Sirius and Ivan were sitting at the small dining table in the corner, glaring at each other over a deck of cards, and Patrick and Remus were talking quietly while they contemplated their next move. 

"More wine, lad?" Patrick asked after Harry finished his drink, but before he could reply, Remus shook his head. 

"Better not. It's a school night."

Harry cast him an offended glare, which Remus happily ignored. 

"Of course," Patrick said, and reached inside the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a few Galleons. "Ivan, be a love and get a few bottles of butterbeer downstairs."

Ivan snapped his gaze up from his hand of cards. "Have we run out of wine?" he asked, confused. 

"No, but it's a school night. The lad can't be getting pissed on a school night."

Ivan rose from his chair with a sigh and tucked his cards behind the waistband of his leather trousers. "Well, I wouldn't know. I never went to school."

Harry looked at him with a frown as Ivan accepted the coins from Patrick. 

"They didn't have school for the commoners in my days, puppy," Ivan said. "I didn't learn how to read and write until I was one hundred and," Ivan squinted his eyes, "thirty six." He winked at Harry and left the room. 

Sirius heaved a tired sigh from his spot at the table. 

"Losing again?" Patrick asked with a grin. Sirius grumbled something in reply and Harry tried not to laugh too loud. Ivan returned a moment later with a few bottles of butterbeer and handed Harry one before he sat back down at the table.

"Thanks," Harry said, took a sip and went back to his essay, which was almost finished. 

"All right, that's it," Sirius suddenly said, slamming his cards down on the table. "Take off your shirt."

"I thought you'd never ask," Ivan replied, grinning. 

"That's your third Full House. It's statistically impossible to get three Full Houses in a row. I know you're stuffing cards up your shirt."

Harry shared an amused glance with Remus and they both chuckled. 

"I'm not stuffing cards up my shirt, dogboy. I'm just very talented at poker," Ivan said smoothly. 

"Give it up, Black," Patrick said, and moved his knight a few places across the chessboard. "I've been trying to discover how he cheats for over a year and I still haven't been able figure it out."

"That is assuming I cheat at all," Ivan said, piling up the Galleons he'd just won from Sirius. "You should come down to the club sometime, dogboy, and we'll play poker in the nude, if you're so worried about me stuffing cards in my clothes."

Sirius snorted but didn't object when Ivan dealt them a new round. 

"I dreamt about the club earlier," Harry said, suddenly remembering the odd dream he'd had. "But only briefly. And then I was in a white room. Is there a white room at the club, Ivan?"

"No, puppy," Ivan said, glancing at him. "Who did you shag in the white room?"

"Um...no one. There was a cloaked man there and he knew I was a werewolf. And when I woke up, my scar hurt."

Remus dropped the pawn he was about to put down and Sirius lowered his cards, offering Ivan a perfect view of what he was holding. 

"Your scar hurt? When was that?" Remus asked with a worried frown. 

"Right before I came to see you," Harry said, closing his Charms book. "I took a nap and had that dream and when I woke up, my scar hurt. I hasn't hurt for six months or so."

"I'm obviously missing something here," Ivan said, glancing at Harry curiously. "Why is it a big deal that your scar hurts?"

"It's a curse scar," Sirius said. "It connects his mind to Voldemort's."

"Ah." Ivan looked impressed. 

"I had some problems with Voldemort entering my mind in the past," Harry explained. "Which is why I had to learn Occlumency, which is the opposite of Legilimency."

Patrick looked thoughtful and glanced briefly at Remus. "Does this mean Voldemort was messing about in your mind again, lad?"

"I don't think so," Harry said. "It felt differently than before. I mean, there was only a white room, nothing else."

"You should mention it to Dumbledore, Harry," Remus said, retrieving his pawn from the floor. "He should know your scar hurt again after so long."

"Yeah, I'll tell him tomorrow morning," Harry said, and took a gulp of his butterbeer. He really hoped Voldemort hadn't found a new way of entering his mind. He didn't think he could deal with Voldemort on top of everything else that was happening in his life at that moment. 

Patrick sighed. "It's hard to believe that bastard ever came back, isn't it?"

Harry felt heat rising to his cheeks, which earned him a narrowed glance from Ivan. 

"It was my fault," Harry muttered. 

"Harry!" Sirius snapped, slamming his cards down. "It wasn't your fault!"

"I was there," Harry said. "He took my blood, didn't he?"

"He what?" Ivan growled, turning in his seat to look at Harry, who swallowed. 

"He took my blood. He needed my blood to return. It doesn't mean anything, really."

"Taking blood always means something," Ivan said, his expression tense. "What did he do?"

"He needed flesh of a servant, bone of his father and blood of his enemy," Harry said. "That was me. He took my blood and that brought him back."

Ivan narrowed his eyes but stayed quiet, seemingly in thought. "You should look into that," he finally said to Remus. "Taking blood always means something. Blood is life, after all."

"I will," Remus said quietly. "Thank you."

Ivan shrugged and focused on his cards again, but Harry could tell from his tense shoulders he wasn't as relaxed as he'd been before.


	18. Chapter 17

Harry ran through the forest with Moony and Padfoot, the forest soil moist beneath his paws and the night air crisp and chilly. He answered Moony's howl with one of his own and chased Padfoot through the trees until he saw a white door in front of him. 

Glancing around, Harry noticed that he wasn't Blue any longer, but himself again and Padfoot and Moony were gone. All that was left was the white door between the trees, and Harry felt compelled to open it. 

"Harry Potter," said the cloaked man in the white room that wasn't a room.

"I think we've established that already," Harry said, slightly annoyed. "Let's talk about who you are."

A low chuckle rose from under the hood. "That is still not important."

"Then what is?" 

"The beast that lives inside you is, boy. You're a monster now. How does it feel to be a monster, Harry? How does it feel to have the world turn against you?"

"I'm not a monster," Harry whispered. 

"But you are. You're a beast. You're what decent wizards fear. And do you know what decent wizards do to things they fear?"

Harry shook his head once. 

"They kill them."

"You must be mistaking me for someone else," Harry said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. 

"Oh, no. I know exactly who and what you are, Harry. You're a killer now."

"I'm not a killer!"

"You are, boy. You want to kill. Why ignore those instincts? Why not give into that desire to slaughter?"

"I'm not a killer!" Harry yelled again, and suddenly there was a hand clutching his shoulder, shaking him hard. 

"Harry, mate, wake up!"

Harry gasped for breath, opened his eyes and then closed them again at once, trying to block the searing pain from his scar. 

"Harry?" Ron asked softly, letting go of Harry's shoulder. "You were yelling. Woke us right up."

"Fuck," Harry said. He realized he'd forgotten to put up a silencing charm the previous evening. After he'd got back he'd gone straight to bed, exhausted as he'd felt, and it had completely slipped his mind. 

Opening his eyes, more carefully this time, Harry reached up and rubbed his scar. The moment he saw Ron's reaction, he wished he hadn't. Ron's eyes were wide and his cheeks pale. 

"Is it....?" Ron asked, his voice cracking. 

Harry nodded. "Yeah, my scar hurts." He let out a deep sigh and remembered Remus' words from the previous evening. That he should let Dumbledore know about it. And now that he'd had a second dream in twenty-four hours, Harry quite agreed with him. "I think I'd best go to Dumbledore."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, backing away from Harry's bed slowly. 

Ignoring Ron's fearful look, Harry pushed himself out of bed and slipped into his slippers and his dressing gown. Then he left the dormitory and Gryffindor Tower, not rubbing his scar again until he was out of Ron's sight. 

"Mr Potter," Snape said coolly when Harry rounded a corner. "Out of bed after curfew? Five points from Gryffindor."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I had an odd dream and my scar hurts," he said. 

Snape's scowl turned into a deep, almost worried frown at once. "To the headmaster then." Without waiting for Harry's reply, Snape turned and led Harry towards Dumbledore's office. Harry followed him, the only sound his slippers clapping against the stone floors of the castle. 

"Pumpkin Pasty," Snape told the gargoyle, which moved out of the way obediently. Harry stifled a yawn as the spiral staircase lifted them up and when they entered Dumbledore's office, Dumbledore stepped out of a side door, dressed in a bright yellow nightshirt and a purple dressing gown.

"Severus, Harry, what can I do for you at this hour?" Dumbledore waved them into seats in front of his desk. 

Harry sat down and took a deep breath. "Last night, or rather, last evening, I took a nap and had an odd dream. When I woke up, my scar hurt. Just now, I had that same dream, and my scar hurts again."

Dumbledore's eyes widened for just a moment and then he stroked a hand down his beard, frowning at Harry. 

"I assume you cleared your mind before you went to sleep?"

"Yeah, like I've done for the past year or so. My scar hasn't hurt since before the summer," Harry said, glancing at Snape, who also looked thoughtful. 

"What was the nature of these dreams?"

"Well, they were different than the ones I've had before. It was almost like my dream got interrupted. There was a door, suddenly, and then I was in a white room with a cloaked and hooded man."

"Did this man say anything?" Dumbledore asked, folding his withered hands on top of his desk. 

"Yes. He knew I was a werewolf. And he went on and on about how I was a beast and a monster and a killer." Harry lowered his gaze and pursed his lips. 

"You say you stepped through a door into a room? This man did not enter the dream you were already having?"

Harry nodded. "My dreams got interrupted by that door, sort of."

"Most peculiar," Dumbledore whispered. "You have mastered Occlumency, and that prevents Voldemort from entering your mind. But it seems that in this situation, no one entered your mind, but rather, you left it."

"Huh?"

Snape snorted, but Harry ignored him and stared at the headmaster in confusion. 

"You are connected to Voldemort, Harry. Occlumency won't change that. It only protects your mind from him. You are proficient enough at Occlumency to lock your mind, and have been since last year. Otherwise I wouldn't have offered to teach you Legilimency myself," Dumbledore said patiently. Harry nodded once. "But how deep your connection runs or in what ways it can be used besides penetrating each other's minds is still not quite clear."

"So you think this was Voldemort?" Harry asked, mentally crossing his fingers that the headmaster would say no. 

"It certainly seems that way, Harry," Dumbledore said with a grave smile. "I would suggest trying not to enter that door if it shows up in your dreams again. In the meantime, we'll look into your connection to Voldemort once more."

"And for Merlin's sake, Potter, don't say anything to that man," Snape snarled, startling Harry. 

"I haven't said anything," Harry muttered. "I just denied my condition."

"Good, good," Dumbledore said. "But Severus is right. Best if you don't seek this man out. And now I believe it's time for you to return to bed."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, got up from his chair, and walked back to Gryffindor Tower, trying to grasp the fact that apparently, Voldemort had found a new way of badgering his mind. Yet another item to add to the pile of Things That Were Fucking Up His Life.

"Dumbledore said it was nothing to worry about," Harry said when he found Ron and Neville waiting for him in the common room. "My scar just acted up on its own. Had nothing to do with Voldemort."

"Ah, okay. That's good," Ron said, giving Harry a doubtful look. 

Harry ignored it. He didn't want to worry his friends, and neither did he feel like spending an hour trying to reassure them that no, he wasn't being possessed by Voldemort.

"I'm going back to bed," he said, and walked up the stairs to their dormitory. Ron and Neville followed him silently, but Harry could practically hear their unspoken doubts.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry managed a few more hours of sleep before it was time to get up and get ready for breakfast and classes. His odd dream didn't return, for which Harry was grateful. During breakfast, he didn't mention any of it to Hermione and neither did Ron or Neville.

At the end of their Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Bill strode towards Harry. 

"Can you meet me in my office later for a chat, Harry?" he asked. 

"Yeah, sure," Harry said. "Before supper? I've got Quidditch practice this evening."

"Around four is fine," Bill said. "I have a few things I'd like to discuss."

Harry nodded, thinking it must be either Order business or something about Harry's condition. He gave Bill a small smile and joined his friends in the corridor to walk to their next class. 

During the rest of the day, Harry found it very difficult to concentrate. His mind kept wandering off to the dreams he'd been having and the enquiry he faced at the Ministry, and when the last bell rang Harry couldn't remember a single thing from his classes that day. 

Feeling tired, as if he'd transformed recently, Harry made his way to Bill's office. 

"Come in, Harry," Bill said after Harry knocked on his door. Harry managed a smile and sank down in one of the chairs at Bill's desk. 

"How are you?" Bill asked, pouring them both a cup of tea. 

"I wish it would all just stop," Harry sighed, running his hands across his face. 

"Yeah," Bill said. "Dumbledore told me what happened last night. He asked me to look into curse scars."

Harry nodded, having no energy to say anything. He picked up his tea and sipped it, hardly tasting the hot brew as his mind wandered off again. 

"There was something I wanted to ask you," Bill said and his voice snapped Harry back to the present. "How do you feel about curse-breaking?"

"Huh?" 

"Does it interest you?"

"I suppose," Harry said, not sure what Bill was getting at. 

"Because I think you'd make a good curse-breaker," Bill said with a wide smile. 

"Really?" Harry blinked and then frowned. "But I can't be a curse-breaker. I don't have Arithmancy. You need Arithmancy," he said, remembering reading that in one of the pamphlets they'd received in his fifth year. 

Bill waved his comment away. "I've been making a few calls and I've read up on Gringotts' policies. If you enter their regular curse-breaking program, you need Arithmancy, yes. But if you receive private tutoring from a certified curse-breaker, it doesn't matter. That curse-breaker can teach you what you need to know of Arithmancy."

Harry's eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. "But what about my condition?"

"These are goblins, Harry," Bill said, grinning. "They don't care if you're a banshee, as long as you get the work done and bring in the treasure."

Harry's hands suddenly started trembling and he put his cup down, staring at Bill, speechless. 

"Of course, it would mean moving to Egypt after finishing school. But I'm a certified curse-breaker and I'd love to tutor you, Harry. Show you how it's done."

"Wait...what...I could become a curse-breaker? In Egypt?" Harry felt as if he'd just won the lottery his Aunt Petunia played in each month. And then he remembered Sirius and Remus and his excitement cooled somewhat. "I'd have to discuss it, but it sounds brilliant!"

"Yeah, I'm sure Sirius and Remus would like to have a say in you moving to Egypt," Bill said, snickering. "But they're welcome to come with you, of course."

"That's...that's the best news I've had in ages," Harry said, brimming with excitement, his earlier worries no longer dominating his thoughts. "That would be so cool."

"You don't have to accept immediately," Bill said. "Take your time. If you want, I can show you a few basic things in the evenings. Give you a proper idea of what it's like to break curses."

Harry was ready to accept Bill's offer at once, but he knew he'd have to discuss it with Sirius and Remus first. Despite that, he suddenly found it hard to sit still in his chair. "I'd like that," he said. "I'd like that very much."

"Great. How about this Saturday afternoon?"

"Perfect," Harry said, not sure if he had prior engagements for Saturday, but not caring about it, either. "I think...I'll just go and discuss it."

"Sure, Harry," Bill said. "I'll see you Saturday."

"Yeah," Harry replied, jumping up from his chair. "Saturday."

He ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower and when he entered the common room, he was happy to find Ron there. 

"I have business," he said in passing. 

"Wait, Harry, we have practice."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Bill's offer had got him so excited he'd completely forgotten about Quidditch. "Bugger," he said. "Ron, could you supervise training please? I have some really important business. I can't say what yet, but I promise I'll let you in on it as soon as I can."

Ron frowned and then nodded. "Just don't do anything stupid, mate," he muttered. 

Harry grinned. "Trust me, Ron. This has nothing to do with stupid. This is brilliant." Without waiting for a reply, Harry rushed up the stairs, slammed the door of their dormitory and grabbed his mirror. 

"Sirius! Remus!"

After a moment, Sirius' face came into view. "Harry? Is something wrong?"

"No, not really. Can you, both of you, meet me in the Shack?"

"Now?" Sirius frowned. "Of course we can. Are you sure you're all right? You look a bit flushed."

"I'm good, yeah. I'll see you in the Shack," Harry said, and deactivated the mirror. He got his cloak and used the Marauder's Map to make his way to the Whomping Willow without attracting attention. He ran through the passageway and was happy to see that Sirius and Remus were already there when he climbed up through the trapdoor. 

"I can become a curse-breaker and Bill will teach me but it means we have to move to Egypt," he blurted before Sirius could grab him into a hug. 

"Come again?" Remus asked. 

"Yeah, you lost me at curse-breaker," Sirius said with a confused frown. 

Harry took a deep breath. "Bill has offered to tutor me in curse-breaking so I can become a curse-breaker for Gringotts. But we'd have to move to Egypt after school ends." 

"Egypt?" Sirius asked, still looking a bit lost. 

"Yeah," Harry said, giving them both an insecure glance. 

"But don't you need Arithmancy for curse-breaking?" Remus asked. "You don't take Arithmancy."

"I know, but Bill said that didn't matter if he tutors me," Harry said, and then he worried his lip. "Of course, if you don't want to move to Egypt, then I won't go either."

"Egypt," Sirius said and then looked at Remus. "What do you say, Moony? It's got lots of sun. And sand. Shouldn't be too bad."

"I don't have any problems moving to Egypt with you," Remus said. Harry felt a wide smile tugging on his lips, but it faded when Remus continued. "However, with the war still going on, I'm not sure that would be such a good idea."

"Fuck the war," Sirius said. "Who knows how long it will last. Could be decades. And we might all be dead by the end of it. I've quite had it with the war."

Remus pursed his lips and sighed. "I do share that sentiment, Padfoot." Then he looked at Harry. "Is this what you want?"

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding. "It would be a real job. A cool job."

"Wait, don't they mind you're a werewolf?" Sirius suddenly asked. 

"They are goblins," Remus offered. "I imagine they don't care much about details like that."

"Exactly," Harry said. "Bill said it doesn't matter at all, as long as you get the work done."

"Perhaps you should discuss it with Dumbledore," Remus said thoughtfully. 

"No," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "This is a once in a lifetime offer. You know that, Remus." Remus nodded. "I've done enough already for Dumbledore. After school, I want to do things for me. And for us."

"Well said." Sirius wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him close for a kiss. 

"Then I suppose we'll be moving to Egypt," Remus said. Harry threw his arms around Remus' neck and gave him a tight hug. 

"Thank you. Both." Harry felt something glow inside his chest, warming him from head to toe, and he realized he hadn't felt that good in a long time. 

"You're most welcome, Harry," Remus whispered. "I think it would be a new start for us all." He glanced at Sirius, who nodded. 

"Anything to get me out of that blasted house," Sirius said, pulling Remus into their embrace. 

"Although I imagine Dumbledore won't be too happy about it," Remus said. 

Sirius snorted and Harry thought for a moment. "But you two can still do research for the Order there," he said. "That's all you do now, isn't it?"

"Mostly, yes," Remus said. "And I suppose you're right. We can still be useful for the Order, even if we live on the other side of the world." 

Harry smiled, feeling relaxed and utterly happy. He leaned up and pressed his lips to Sirius' and sneaked his tongue inside Sirius' mouth. Sirius answered his kiss, pulling Harry closer and rubbing his groin against Harry's. 

"Can we go upstairs?" Harry asked, flushed with arousal. 

"You want a shag to celebrate?" Sirius asked, grinning. 

"Any shag will do. I just want to feel both of you," Harry whispered. Remus chuckled and grabbed Harry's hand to lead him up the stairs. 

"You should have said you'd be wanting a shag," Sirius said inside their bedroom. "We'd have brought the toys."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Padfoot, when does Harry not want a shag?"

"Good point, Moony." Sirius grabbed Harry's arms and pulled him close, Harry's back to Sirius' chest. As Harry's breathing sped up, Sirius started on the buttons of Harry's robes and Remus kissed and licked every patch of skin that was exposed. He sucked Harry's nipples into hardness and bit around them. Harry rested the back of his head on Sirius' shoulderHa  
, turning his face to claim Sirius' mouth for another kiss. 

"You are delicious," Remus whispered, and nuzzled the short hairs just below Harry's navel while he pushed Harry's boxers down. Harry's tongue was occupied with teasing Sirius' and he only moaned in response, but it turned into a muffled cry when Remus' mouth closed around the head of his pulsing cock. 

"I want to fuck you, Remus," Harry gasped after he'd managed to pull away from Sirius' welcome mouth. Sucking harder around Harry's cock, Remus glanced up at him, his lips twitching up in a smile. "And I want you to fuck me," Harry said, biting at Sirius' jaw. 

"Sounds like a plan," Sirius said, a bit breathless. "On the bed."

Harry quickly kicked off his shoes and slid off his robes and his glasses, and then he let himself fall to the bed. Stroking his aching erection, he watched through hooded eyes as Sirius and Remus shed their clothes. It had been three days since their last shag, and with all the new developments Harry hadn't wanked, either. His cock felt as if it would burst at the mere idea of sliding inside Remus' tight body. 

"Turn on your side," Sirius whispered. Harry did and Sirius pressed against his back while Remus lay down on Harry's other side, spreading his legs and offering Harry his arse. 

"God, it's been so long," Harry said, and accepted the lubricant Sirius handed him. Remus chuckled and glanced at Harry over his shoulder. 

"It's only been three days," he said with a smile. 

"Far too long," Sirius agreed. He teased Harry's entrance with slick fingers, sliding one in and then two, opening Harry's body with quick and expert strokes. 

"Feels so good," Harry moaned, and then mimicked Sirius' actions on Remus' body, thrusting two fingers inside. He found Remus' prostateH  
after a few trembling strokes and teased it with little brushes of his fingertips. Sirius did the same to him and Harry groaned, letting his eyes fall shut, only feeling them all around him and inside him, warm, sweat-slick skin and deft fingers and a tight channel and Sirius' cock pushing against his entrance and Remus' body accepting his own prick. 

"Oh, fuck," Harry moaned, biting his lip. His cock pulsed inside Remus' tight body and for a moment, Harry was afraid he'd come right then and there. Stilling his hips, he wrapped his arm around Remus' chest and panted hot breaths against Remus' shoulder. 

"You all right?" Sirius asked with a chuckle, sliding his prick in and out of Harry at a torturously slow pace.

"Just a minute," Harry sighed. 

"Ah, to be seventeen again," Remus said, grinning. Harry pinched his nipple in return, drawing a moan from Remus. 

"Take your time, Harry. We're not going anywhere." Sirius was obviously trying not to laugh and Harry clenched his arse around Sirius' cock for revenge. Sirius' chuckles transformed into a surprised cry, and then he gripped Harry's hip and started thrusting in and out of Harry hard. Harry had little choice but to follow his example, and trying to hold his climax back as long as he could, he fucked Remus' arse with all his might. 

"God, yes, like that," Remus moaned. Harry reached down and curled his fingers around Remus' prick, trying to stroke it as best as he could while Sirius pushed him in and out of Remus.

"I'm almost...almost...there," Harry breathed. It was no use trying to hold back because he was helpless between their bodies, the pleasure too great to control. "Oh, god, yes," he moaned, and came deep inside Remus, his cock spurting and pulsing as his hips jerked back against Sirius' thrusts. 

Harry bit the scarred skin of Remus' shoulder, moaning softly as he came down from his climax. He stroked Remus' cock harder and faster and bucked back against Sirius, shivering from the flutters of bliss shooting through his body with every stroke of Sirius' cock against his prostate.

Remus came with a soft groan, spilling his hot release over Harry's trembling fingers, and Sirius followed him a few thrusts later, gasping against Harry's neck as he filled Harry's body with his seed. 

"Fuck," Harry sighed. Sirius mumbled something against Harry's hair and Remus took a deep, satisfied breath. 

"Good?" Sirius asked, nuzzling Harry's shoulder and stroking his side. Harry nodded and smiled, feeling spent and sweaty.

Slowly, Remus pulled away from Harry to turn on his back, and Harry let out a sigh as his softening prick slipped from Remus' body. He felt Sirius slide out and then he lay down on his back as well, staring up at the ceiling and stroking his sensitive sac.

"We'll need a house in Egypt," Sirius said, smiling. "A big house with palm trees."

"I'm not sure if there are palm trees in Egypt," Remus mused, which earned him a snort from Sirius. 

"Of course there are palm trees. It's hot there, isn't it?"

"Yes, Padfoot, but it isn't tropical. It's a desert."

Harry looked back and forth between his lovers and smiled, imagining a white house surrounded by tall palm trees in a red desert. That's how their house should look, he thought.

"Then we'll plant palm trees," Sirius concluded. 

"Are you so eager to have Padfoot raise his leg against one?" Remus asked and then ducked away when Sirius leaned over Harry to punch him. Harry laughed, pushing Sirius back against the sheets. 

"I'd like palm trees as well," he said. "I don't think I've ever seen one for real."

"Then we'll definitely have some," Sirius said, pulling Harry down for a kiss. 

"And a pool," Remus said and both Harry and Sirius nodded their agreement. "Because if it's hot, I'll want to take a swim and we can't go swimming in the Nile."

"Why not?" Harry asked. 

"Crocodiles," Remus said. 

"Big ones," Sirius added. "Oh, and there are poisonous snakes, too. It's going to be brilliant."

"And mummies," Remus said with a teasing smile. "If you're going to break curses, you'll run into mummies."

"I don't mind mummies," Harry said. "I think."

"They're just old, dead people," Sirius said and then grinned at Harry. "And you're already chummy with one of those." Harry stuck his tongue out at Sirius in response. 

"I'm sure we'll find a lovely house. With palm trees," Remus said, looking at them both. "We deserve it."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He lay quietly for a while, allowing his thoughts to wander to images of their perfect house in Egypt before he suddenly remembered the odd dream he'd had. "Oh, I had that dream again last night and I went to see Dumbledore."

"What did he say?" Remus asked, turning on his side, propping his head up on his hand. 

"That it was most likely Voldemort, but that he hadn't entered my mind."

"Did you enter his mind, then?" Sirius asked, frowning. 

"He didn't say, but I don't think so. I couldn't feel any of Voldemort's emotions like I could in the past. Dumbledore said something about me leaving my mind, though, and that no one was sure how the connection between Voldemort and me works."

"We'll look into it some more," Sirius said, and pressed a kiss to Harry's shoulder. Remus hummed his agreement, looking thoughtful.

Harry sighed. "I hope he hasn't found a new way of messing with my mind. I'm sick and tired of everything that's been going wrong lately. Every time I think things can't get any worse, something more horrible happens. I wish it would stop already."

"Life has a way of doing that," Remus said, running his hand down Harry's chest. "There's nothing you can do about it, Harry, except to try to deal with it as best as you can." 

Harry's stomach choose that moment to rumble loudly. 

"Are you hungry?" Remus asked, and Harry nodded. 

"I'm hungry as well. We missed supper because little Harry here insisted on a shag," Sirius said with a teasing smile. Harry glared at him. "I could apparate home and fix us a few sandwiches," Sirius offered. 

"Or we could invite ourselves to dinner at the Hog's Head," Remus said. Harry glanced at him, raising his eyebrows. "I've been reading up on the uses of blood in potions and curses, but it makes little sense, so I thought I'd run it by our expert on blood," Remus explained.

"Oh, he's an expert now?" Sirius snorted but didn't object any further. 

"At poker," Harry mumbled and then squealed when Sirius pounced on him, slapping his chest and tickling his sides. Remus smiled at them and pushed himself up. 

"Let's go." Remus wiped himself clean with the corner of the sheet and bent to pick up his robes. Harry and Sirius took a moment to enjoy the view and then they got up as well to get dressed. 

"I suggest we apparate to the hallway instead of their room. I'll go first, Harry." Remus closed the last of his buttons and then apparated with a crack. Harry tied his shoelaces, concentrated for a moment and then followed Remus to the hallway. Sirius joined them a moment later, and just as Remus raised his hand to knock on the door to number three, it swung open. 

"Did you come for a rematch, dogboy?" Ivan asked, and he narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air. "My, my, you don't have to be a vampire to smell what you've been up to."

"We were wondering if we could have a word," Remus said politely. 

"And something to eat," Sirius added. "And sure, stiff, I'm ready to win your money for a change."

"We'll just see about that," Ivan said, smirking and he waved them inside. 

"Did you say you wanted something to eat?" Patrick asked from his seat near the fire. 

"Yeah," Harry said. "We missed supper."

"Too busy making a sandwich of your own?" Ivan asked with an innocent smile.

Harry grinned. "I was the meat."

"Lucky puppy, with two such lovely slices of bread." Ivan winked at Sirius, who rolled his eyes and sat down. 

"They serve a good steak here," Patrick said, ignoring Ivan. "I'll order some." He got up and used the fire to place an order. "Should be done soon," he said as he sat back down.

"They must have given it to you good, puppy. I don't think I've ever seen such a big smile on your face," Ivan said, seating himself on the armrest of Patrick's chair. 

Harry's smile got impossibly wider. "I got a job offer today. Bill's going to tutor me to become a curse-breaker. We'll be moving to Egypt after school finishes."

"That's good news, lad," Patrick said. 

"Egypt? I have a house on the outskirts of Cairo," Ivan said. "You may use it if you want. The key is under the doormat."

"Does it have palm trees?" Harry whispered hopefully.

"As a matter of fact, it does, in the courtyard. It's a lovely villa."

"Oh, come off the stage," Sirius said, staring at Ivan in disbelief. "You just happen to have a villa in Cairo. Right."

Ivan arched an amused eyebrow. "I do, yes. I have houses all over the world."

Sirius merely gaped in response. 

"He's filthy rich," Patrick offered, which earned him a snort from Ivan. 

"I'm doing all right, yes."

"If you're so rich, how come you're staying in this sleazy place? Why aren't you in the Three Broomstick's best suite?" Sirius asked, tilting his head in a silent dare. 

"Because they wouldn't have us," Patrick said quietly. "They didn't want Dark Creatures mingling with their regular guests."

"Dogboy, if it were up to me, we'd be staying in the penthouse of the Dorchester right now, or in my London apartment. But, alas, both are located in Muggle areas and your Ministry's still trying to nail Patrick's arse. So we're stuck in this sleazy place, yes."

Sirius managed an apologetic smile.

"They still haven't given up on you?" Remus asked. Patrick shook his head. 

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, feeling oddly guilty. "I didn't mean to come in here and –"

"Hush, lad," Patrick said. "Be glad you got a job. This calls for a drink."

Just as Patrick got up, there was a knock on the door. Ivan answered it and the moment he opened the door, a trolley drove in with four steaming plates on it. 

"That smells good," Harry said, sniffing the air.

"Come get it then, lad," Patrick said, placing the plates on the small dining table. Harry took a seat and felt his mouth water at the sight of an enormous steak with mashed potatoes and peas. There was hardly room at the table for four adults, but they managed it, though it took Harry some practice not to bump his elbows against Sirius and Remus too hard.

Ivan served them all a glass of wine and declined when Patrick offered him some of his steak. "I'm going out for dinner later, love," he said with a lewd smile. 

They didn't talk much as they ate, too busy filling their hungry stomachs. Harry ate every last scrap on his plate and then leaned back in his chair, letting out a satisfied sigh. He felt utterly stuffed. 

"Good, lad?" Patrick asked as they moved to the seats in front of the fire. Harry nodded. "It's the only decent thing they serve here. I've been living off it for half a year now," Patrick said with a grin.

"The reason we came here is because I wanted to ask you something," Remus said to Ivan, who tilted his head curiously. "Last night, you mentioned the importance of Voldemort using Harry's blood. I've been researching that all day, but I can't find any concrete information on it. You said something about blood being life?"

Ivan stretched his legs and kept quiet for a moment. "Look," he finally said. "I don't know any hocus pocus, but I do know blood. And blood is life. It's kept me alive for five hundred years, hasn't it?"

Remus nodded and Harry worried his lip, wondering if that meant he had yet another connection with Voldemort. 

"The puppy mentioned flesh and bone, but those don't matter much. Those aren't life. Blood is. So if that sorcerer has used his blood, it means they are bonded in life."

"Bonded?" Sirius barked. Harry choked on his wine. 

"Not bonded as in that they should be arranging their honeymoon anytime soon," Ivan said with a grin. "But sharing blood is intimate. It's not something to be taken lightly. You share life when you share blood. That's all I know, but it seems significant to me."

"It does, yes," Remus agreed. "I'll look into it some more."

"God, I wish he'd die already," Harry sighed. "I'm sick of him –"

"Wait!" Sirius' eyes widened. "Wait, wait...there's something..." He snapped his gaze at Ivan. "You say it bonds them in life. Harry's blood. How does it bond them in death then?"

"Aren't you a smart doggy," Ivan drawled. "If it bonds them in life, it also bonds them in death."

"What?" Harry felt his heart skip a beat. "Does that mean that if he dies I die?"

"No, puppy," Ivan said with a reassuring smile. "But life doesn't end after death, does it?"

"Um..." Harry frowned in confusion. 

"I'm not completely sure, since this also involved hocus pocus, but if you are intimate in life and death, if he needed your blood to live, that means you can follow him wherever he goes."

"You've lost me," Sirius said and rubbed his hands across his face. 

"It's hard to explain to a mortal, I suppose," Ivan said and shrugged.

"I'll research it," Remus said, and then glanced at Sirius. "We'll research it."

Harry drained his wine and thought about what Ivan had said. Harry felt as if he was missing something important. As if the clue of the whole thing lay just beneath the surface of those words. He sighed and held out his glass so Ivan could refill it. Remus seemed too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice and tell Harry it was a school night. 

"So, if you're so filthy rich, how about laying some of that money on the table?" Sirius asked, giving Ivan a smug grin. 

"My pleasure, dogboy." Ivan rose from his seat and Sirius followed him to the table. Harry suspected Sirius would be leaving with considerable fewer Galleons in his pockets yet again that evening. 

"How come you're so rich anyway?" Sirius asked, looking thoughtfully at the cards in his hand. "Did you rob every single one of your victims?"

"At first, yes," Ivan said, unfazed. "But then I got a bit smarter. Just imagine five hundred years of interest and stocks and bonds. It adds up."

Sirius made a vague sound that could be an insult and drew another card. Then he sighed and added another Galleon to the pile in the middle of the table. Harry watched them for a while, amused, and then turned to Remus and Patrick as they talked softly about curse-breaking and Egypt. 

"How come vampires and werewolves hate each other, anyway?" Harry asked after a while, sipping his third glass of wine. Remus still hadn't commented, for which Harry was grateful. 

"I have no – "

"That's a lovely story, actually," Ivan interrupted Patrick, who looked at him with a frown. "You want to hear it?"

Harry nodded and shifted on the rug in front of the fire so he could look at Ivan. 

"Once upon a time in a land far, far away –"

"Oh, please," Sirius sighed, but Ivan ignored him and continued. 

"-- there were two powerful sorcerers, each trying to control their land. But they were equal in power and couldn't settle their differences with magic. So they decided to create two powerful creatures to fight the battle for them."

"That is the biggest – "

"Sirius, sshhh," Harry said, glaring at Sirius. He was eager to hear the story, even though he expected it would be a story with little truth. 

"One sorcerer took a young man and cursed him with the powers of the wolf. The other sorcerer took a young man and cursed him with the powers of darkness itself. Then they met on the night of the full moon and their creatures fought all night long. But they were of equal strength and it wasn't until the full moon set and the wolf turned into a man again that the vampire was able to kill him."

"So the vampire won?" Harry wondered. 

"Technically, yes. Of course, the moment the sun rose he burned to ashes, but that hardly matters."

"If they both died, how were they able to infect others then?" Sirius asked with a daring grin. 

"I wouldn't know," Ivan said, shrugging. "That's the story I read."

"Before you were able to read, I'd say," Sirius mumbled. 

"It's a nice story," Harry offered. 

"There's surely some moral in it," Remus said. "That often people hate not for their own reasons but for someone else's."

"Aye," Patrick said. "And that even the most powerful creatures have their weaknesses."

Ivan gave Sirius a satisfied smile and then his expression became more earnest. "It's a good story, yes. But I think that more recently, our kin hates each other because most werewolves are wizards."

"Ah," Harry said. "So it's not about the wolf but about the magic."

"Exactly, puppy," Ivan said and then spread his cards out on the table. "Full House."

"You bloody cheating stiff." Sirius slammed his cards down and scowled. 

Harry snickered and then had to stifle a yawn. 

"I think it's time to go," Remus said, smiling at Harry. They got up and after saying their goodbyes, Remus, Harry and Sirius apparated back to the Shack. 

"Meet us tomorrow?" Sirius asked. "We'll bring the toys."

"Sounds good," Harry said, and gave first Sirius and then Remus a deep kiss. "Goodnight." 

With the help of the Marauder's Map, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower unseen, but when he entered the common room he was surprised to find his friends still up. 

"What was so urgent?" Ron asked. He seemed a bit ticked off and Harry sighed. 

"I can tell you, but not here." Harry pulled out the map again and led his friends to the Room of Requirement. When he entered it, he was once again greeted with the sight of a comfortable sitting room. After they'd all found a seat, Harry looked at his friends. 

"I got a job offer today," he said, feeling his lips tug up in a smile. "Bill offered to tutor me in curse-breaking so I can become a curse-breaker for Gringotts in Egypt after school ends."

After a brief moment of shocked silence, his friends all started talking at the same time. 

"Bill offered you a job?" Ron asked, affronted. 

"Harry, that's so cool," Ginny said, grinning. 

"In Egypt?" Hermione seemed more than surprised. "But..."

"That's good news, Harry," Neville said softly. 

"How come Bill offered you a job?" Ron's brow twisted into a dark frown. "He never offered me a job, and I'm his brother!"

"So then you'll be moving to Egypt, I suppose," Hermione said, her voice trembling. 

"Will Sirius and Remus go with you?" Ginny wanted to know. 

Harry sighed and raised a hand to silence his friends. "Yes, Remus and Sirius will go with me, of course. I just talked to them and they're okay with it. And yes, I'll be moving to Egypt after school ends."

"But the war," Hermione said. "You can't just leave the country with Voldemort still after you."

"And why not?" Harry asked, irritation sparking to life inside of him. "Sirius said this war could go on for decades. I'm not going to sit around and wait until it ends before thinking about getting a life."

Ron crossed his arms, giving Harry a cold stare. Harry recognized that look of jealousy and he gave Ron a small smile. 

"Bill thinks I'll make a good curse-breaker. This is a unique opportunity, what with my condition," he said, hoping Ron would understand that. Ron shrugged and his expression relaxed a bit. Neville looked confused, though. 

"The Ministry's laws regarding Dark Creatures are very strict," Harry explained. "Not to mention that no one will want a werewolf as an employee. I won't be able to find a normal job here, so I'm taking this one. And also because I think it's brilliant, to become a curse-breaker."

"How strict are those laws?" Hermione asked with a thoughtful frown. 

"Horribly strict," Harry sighed. 

"But Lupin only left because of the parents' reaction, right?" Neville asked. 

Harry shook his head. "He might have, initially. But I know from him and...others like us that it's next to impossible to get a job in the wizarding world when you're a werewolf. A lot of werewolves move to the Muggle world because of that. So for me it's either become a curse-breaker in Egypt or leave our world altogether."

"That's so unfair," Ginny said with a sympathetic smile.

"I know," Harry said, and shrugged. "But there's nothing I can do about it, so I'm taking this job."

"Good for you," Ginny said.

Harry smiled at her and then faked a yawn. "I think it's time to get back," he said, and got up. The rest got up as well, and they walked back to Gryffindor Tower quietly. Harry decided that his friends' reactions hadn't been all that bad. He just didn't feel like dragging the subject out more than necessary since he still didn't think his friends would ever understand what it was like for him. 

After wishing the girls a good night, Harry followed Neville and Ron up to their dormitory. They didn't say much as they got ready for bed. When sleep finally claimed Harry and he found himself in the Forbidden Forest again with Padfoot and Moony, the white door appeared once. But Harry ignored it and ran and chased and howled until it was time to get up again in the morning.

*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the week passed as quickly and as uneventfully as could be expected. Classes kept Harry busy, as did his homework, and he was able to ignore the whispers around him. Malfoy hadn't bothered him again since that incident outside the Potions classroom and the rest of the students never approached him directly, but preferred to address the rumours behind his back. But Harry felt better and stronger than he had in a long time now that he knew he had a future with Sirius and Remus to look forward to.

During breakfast on Saturday morning, Harry was brimming with excitement. Bill would show him a few basic things that afternoon, after all, and Harry couldn't wait to get started on his new job, even if it wasn't official yet. 

Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower with the idea of doing some homework before it was time to go see Bill, but when he passed a small corridor, a pale hand shot out and grabbed his arm. 

"Potter, a minute of your time," Snape said. 

Harry, clutching a hand over his heart in shock, nodded mutely and followed Snape to the dungeons, wondering what Snape was up to now. 

Much to Harry's surprise, they passed the Potions classroom and Snape led him deeper into the dungeons until Harry found himself in a part of the castle he'd never been in before. 

"In here," Snape said, opening a heavy door with a tap of his wand. As Harry followed him inside, he realized it had to be Snape's private workrooms. 

"I need your blood, Potter," Snape said after he'd closed and locked the door. Harry was too busy gaping at the boiling cauldrons around the room and the vials and jars on the many shelves along the stone walls to hear much of what Snape said. 

"Potter, pay attention," Snape snarled, and Harry shook himself and then nodded. "I need your blood."

"My blood?" Harry asked, his eyes widening as he remembered Ivan's speech about how sharing blood was always intimate. 

Snape let out an impatient sigh. "Yes, your blood. I believe I have found a way to solve your little problem with the Ministry."

"Ah," Harry said, letting Snape's words sink in. "Of course. Cool."

Snorting, Snape reached for a small, shining metal bar and handed it to Harry, who accepted it and looked at it nonplussed. 

"That is pure silver," Snape said. Harry had the sudden urge to drop the silver bar, but he realized that the silver didn't hurt him at all, so he looked up at Snape, raising a questioning eyebrow. "It will not harm your skin, either in your current form or in your lycanthrope body."

Snape grabbed Harry's wrist, forced him to drop the bar on the worktable in front of them and then hovered Harry's palm above a glass dish. With a flick of his wand, a cut appeared on Harry's hand and Harry gritted his teeth as he watched thick drops of crimson blood spill into the dish. 

"However, your blood is highly allergic to silver," Snape continued, releasing Harry's hand. He picked up the silver bar, and Harry curled his hand into a fist to stop the bleeding. "I believe I can exorcise the infection from your blood with liquid silver and then use it in a Polyjuice potion, which will allow the drinker to remain in human form during the night of the full moon."

"But that would be a cure then," Harry said. "If you can get the infection out of my blood with silver."

Snape sneered and tapped his wand against the end of the silver bar. A few drops of liquid silver fell into Harry's blood sample, which started to hiss, small wisps of smoke rising up from it.

"Or maybe not," Harry muttered, watching with wide eyes how his blood boiled, little red bubbles popping up around the drops of silver.

"Indeed," Snape said. "But my calculations show me that despite the rather violent reaction to silver, this blood sample should still be usable in Polyjuice Potion."

Harry frowned and glanced up at Snape. "But that would be a partial cure then. If I would take a Polyjuice Potion of someone who's not a werewolf, I wouldn't transform during the night of the full moon."

"You idiot boy," Snape said, towering over Harry. "Polyjuice only alters you physically. It doesn't change your mind. Your soul. If you use Polyjuice on the night of the full moon, your body will not change, but your mind will. And I daresay it won't be a pleasant experience to have the mind of a beast inside a human body. Not to mention any consequences it might have once the Polyjuice expires."

Pursing his lips, Harry nodded, staring at his blood sample which had stopped boiling. "But you can use my altered blood to Polyjuice someone into me who won't transform when the moon is full," he said softly. 

"So you have been paying attention," Snape said with a sniff. "Yes, I believe I can. Then the Ministry will see with their own eyes that Harry Potter will not transform into a werewolf. Of course, now I have only two weeks to alter the Polyjuice Potion so it will last for twenty-four hours and to make it undetectable."

"Who will go in my place then?" Harry asked. 

"I will," Snape said. At Harry's surprised look, he added, "I'm an Occlumens, Potter. If someone proficient enough at Legilimency questioned me, they will not be able to catch me in a lie."

"Ah," Harry said, and then stayed quiet for a moment, giving himself a chance to process Snape's words. Suddenly, he remembered something Bill had said during one of their chats. "You know, you might want to talk to Bill – "

Snape cleared his throat meaningfully. 

"—Professor Weasley," Harry continued, "about making the potion undetectable. He mentioned once he knew several spells or curses to make my condition undetectable for a short period of time."

Snape's eyes narrowed for a moment, and then he nodded. "That will be all, Potter. Get out."

"Yes, sir," Harry said with a smile so bright he knew it would annoy Snape. He all but skipped out of the workroom, feeling even better than he had earlier. It seemed the tables were finally turning for him. First a job offer, and now a possible solution for his problem with the Ministry. Harry couldn't wait to tell Sirius and Remus this bit of brilliant news and as he didn't think he'd be able to wait until that evening, Harry decided to use his mirror. 

But as he walked past the library, he heard a familiar voice calling his name. 

"Harry, wait!" Hermione came rushing out of the library, a couple of books and rolls of parchment gathered in her arms. "Can I have a word, please?"

"Sure," Harry said. "Usual place?" When Hermione nodded, Harry changed his course and made his way to the Room of Requirement. Harry wondered what Hermione wanted of him, and then he realized this was the first time the two of them had been alone since the night his friends had caught him with Sirius and Remus. As Harry glanced at Hermione, he thought she didn't look so hurt anymore, as she had the first few weeks after that disastrous evening.

They once again found a sitting room waiting for them, and as Harry lowered himself to the couch he looked at Hermione with a curious smile. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about then?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed, placed a few of her books beside her and then flipped one large tome open. "I've been reading up on the Ministry's laws concerning Dark Creatures and they are truly dreadful."

Harry felt oddly torn. Part of him was pleased Hermione had taken an interest in his current situation, but a different part of him got horrible visions of badges and ugly hats, which Hermione's enthusiasm had proven to produce in the past. 

"Yeah, I know that," he whispered. 

"I mean, you can't even get married, or join an official club, or work in a Ministry function or adopt a child," Hermione babbled. Harry blinked. Actually, he hadn't known all those details, only what he'd heard from Remus and Patrick so far. But he nodded his agreement as if he understood what Hermione was talking about.

"These laws take away your basic rights as a human being," Hermione said, her tone more vicious now. "That has to be stopped. Those laws need to be changed."

Harry simply nodded. 

"I've accepted a position with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures –"

"Whoa," Harry said, raising a hand in objection. "Hermione, you don't have to go work at the Ministry just for me, you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes and then gave Harry a smile. "I already took that position before I learned about your condition, Harry. I still believe house elves deserve better rights."

"Ah." Harry felt a faint blush rising to his cheeks. 

"Anyway. I plan to look into the laws concerning all types of Magical Creatures, and I will do whatever I can to get them changed. This is an outrage, that the Ministry treats decent wizards and witches like this."

Harry felt oddly grateful, if not a tad despaired. "Thank you," he said, and then grinned. "Just promise me one thing. No badges. Or silly hats."

Hermione snorted. "I promise."

Smiling, Harry looked down at the cut of his hand, which had already stopped bleeding, and then he got an idea. "I have a favour to ask, sort of," he said, glancing up at Hermione. 

Hermione nodded at him to go on. 

"A friend...he's a vampire...told me –"

"You're friends with a vampire? But Harry, those are killers!"

"No, they're not," Harry snapped and took a deep breath. "Okay, maybe technically they are, but they don't want to be. They're just like me. Like werewolves. They've been infected with a curse and they have to try and live with that."

"Really?" Hermione asked softly. 

"Yeah, really," Harry said. "They're not so bad."

"All right. What did your friend say?"

"He told me that Voldemort taking my blood to get back was significant. That it bonded us in life and death or something like that. The problem is, he knows nothing about magic, so he couldn't say much more than that. I was just wondering if you –"

"I'll look into it," Hermione said with a reassuring smile. 

"Thank you." Harry studied his hands again. "How have you been?" he asked after a moment of silence. 

"I've been well, thank you."

"Ah. That's good." Harry tried to think of something else to say. Something that didn't involve relationships or sexuality. "Are you coming to the match next week?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, of course. But I'm not sure if I'll be cheering for Gryffindor."

"Why not?" Harry asked, affronted. 

A small blush crept up Hermione's cheeks. "Because I'm seeing one of Ravenclaw's Chasers," she said. Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Daniel Klensman. He asked me to Hogsmeade before the Christmas holidays."

"Oh. That's cool," Harry said, wondering why he felt jealous for a brief moment.

"Yes, it is," Hermione said, and then gathered her books. "I have a ton of homework to do and I'm already preparing for our NEWTs so if you don't mind, I'm going back to Gryffindor Tower."

"Yeah, I have to do some homework as well," Harry said, and then walked back with Hermione while they chatted about their upcoming NEWTs, something which didn't worry Harry all that much yet. 

Harry spent the rest of the morning in the common room, doing homework with Ron, Hermione and the rest of his friends, and after lunch he hurried to Bill's office. 

Bill opened the door before Harry could even knock. "Aren't you eager to get started," he said with a teasing smile. 

"Hell yes," Harry said. He'd told Bill he accepted the offer the morning after his talk with Sirius and Remus, and Bill had said they would get started on some introductions to curse-breaking for real then. 

Harry wanted to sit down in his usual seat but Bill waved him over to the other side of the desk and pulled up a chair for him there. Harry sank down in it while Bill pulled a huge stack of books closer. 

"We'll start on some history," Bill said and Harry tried not to look too disappointed. Bill grinned at him. "What, did you think we'd start throwing curses immediately?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd hoped."

"That will come later, Harry. First, you'll have to learn some theory on this matter. The ancient Egyptians were a fascinating if not odd people. Here, take some notes." Bill handed Harry a piece of parchment and a quill and then opened the first book. 

Harry spent the afternoon listening to Bill telling about Ancient Egypt's history, legends and myths. HarryHar took as many notes as he could and he realized he did find the subject fascinating. When it was time for supper, Bill gave Harry three books to read before their lesson next Sunday. And Harry was surprised when he realized he didn't mind having to read those books at all.


	19. Chapter 18

Harry had never wanted to catch a Snitch as badly as he did during the match against Ravenclaw. When they'd walked onto the field right before the game started, Harry had spotted Remus in the crowd, sitting beside what looked like an empty chair. But Harry knew Sirius was sitting there, safely hidden under his invisibility cloak. 

The weather was perfect for Quidditch; the sky was clear and the January sun wasn't bright enough to make its reflection in the snow blinding. Another good thing was that Ravenclaw had an inexperienced Seeker. Cho Chang had left Hogwarts the previous year and their new Seeker, a second-year boy with messy brown hair named Benjamin Connelly, still seemed quite insecure in the game. 

Harry flew around the pitch, keeping half an ear on Seamus' commentary. Ravenclaw was leading seventy to fifty, thanks to their excellent Chasers, and that made Harry even more determined to find the Snitch as fast as he could.

And then Harry saw a flicker of gold not five feet away from Benjamin, who hovered on the other side of the field. Benjamin, however, hadn't spotted the Snitch yet, and Harry went with his instincts to distract Benjamin. He took off in a steep dive, pretending to have spotted the Snitch on his side of the field, and just as he had expected, Benjamin flew over to him and followed his dive. 

But just before he reached the ground, Harry pulled up and flew as fast as he could to the point where he'd seen the Snitch. It still hovered there, daring him into a chase, and Harry accepted, pushing his Firebolt forward even faster. A steep climb and another dive later, Harry felt the Snitch's wings flutter against his fingertips and he clenched his jaw, reached out even further and closed his fingers around the Snitch. 

The crowd exploded into applause, save for the Ravenclaws and Slytherins, and Harry grinned while he flew a honorary lap around the pitch, the Snitch held high. When he passed Remus and Sirius -- who hadn't thrown off his invisibility cloak in the excitement, Harry was happy to notice – he grinned even wider. Remus answered it with a warm smile and applauded his success. Harry could only imagine the satisfied look on Sirius' face, but the knowledge that Sirius was there to watch him made Harry's heart swell.

"Brilliant!" Ron shouted the moment Harry set foot on the ground. The entire Gryffindor team rushed towards him and clapped him on his back and ruffled his hair. 

"Connelly never stood a chance," Dean said, and the rest voiced their agreement. 

"Yeah, it was a good game," Harry said. Mostly he was just happy to see his team-mates and a lot of the other students acting normally again, apparently having forgotten the vicious rumours about his condition, at least for a day. 

They celebrated their victory in the common room, and the next day, Harry had a private celebration with Sirius and Remus in the Shack. And all that time, Harry felt as if he'd conquered the world. 

But that feeling ended the next Wednesday evening, when Harry and Ron walked back from Quidditch practice. They strode through the corridors, their brooms balanced on their shoulders, and they chatted amicably about Gryffindor's chances that year. 

"If we win against Hufflepuff in May and Slytherin loses against Ravenclaw, we still have a chance at the cup," Ron said. 

"That's true," Harry said. "But, and I hate to say it, the chances of Connelly beating Malfoy to the Snitch aren't very big." 

Ron growled. "Let's hope he falls off his broom during practice and breaks his neck."

Suddenly, a tall figure jumped out of the shadows and pulled Harry close. "Hello, puppy."

With a battle cry that surprised Harry, Ron hauled his broom up and whacked Ivan on the head. Ivan staggered back and Harry reached for Ron's broom when Ron tried to smack Ivan again. 

"Ron! No! He's a friend!"

"He attacked you," Ron said, his look of anger morphing into one of confusion. 

"No, I didn't," Ivan said, and snorted. "If I wanted to attack him, you wouldn't have heard me coming. Let's try this again. You just keep your broomstick to yourself." Ivan stepped up to Harry, grabbed his chin with gentle fingers and pressed a kiss to Harry's lips. "Hello, puppy."

Ron's mouth dropped open at the same moment his broom clattered to the floor. 

"Hey, Ivan," Harry said, feeling just a tad embarrassed. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a date with batboy. He poked me for a bit."

"Batboy?" Ron asked. 

"Snape," Harry said, and then snickered at the huge grin on Ron's face. 

"I heard you chattering a mile away when I was on my way out. I couldn't resist saying hello." Ivan winked at Harry and then turned to look at Ron. "And who is this? Your bodyguard?"

"That's Ron. He's a friend," Harry said. 

"Ah, yes, I remember seeing him in Billy's class. He seemed quite...." Ivan trailed off and turned his head to sniff the air. 

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing. 

Ivan shrugged. "Nothing, I'm sure. I just smelled an odd rat."

"A rat?" Harry felt his heart miss a beat. 

"Yeah, he smelled like a mortal," Ivan said, giving Harry a curious look. 

Harry reached for his bag to pull the Marauder's Map out but then realized that he didn't have his bag with him. He turned to Ron, who also looked worried. "Ron, get my bag...in our dorm...the map is in there. Tap your wand against it and say 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.' Then get Dumbledore."

"You think it's...?" Ron's voice sounded oddly squeaky.

"Who else would be a rat smelling like a man. Now go!" Harry turned to Ivan. "Can you track him?"

"Sure, puppy. But why are we tracking a rat?"

"He's not a rat, but the wizard who betrayed my parents."

"Ah. Follow me then, puppy." Ivan sniffed the air once and then dashed into a corridor and disappeared out of sight. Harry ran after him but soon realized that he'd never be able to keep up with Ivan's speed. 

"Fuck," he said, feeling panic rising in his chest. The idea that Wormtail might be snooping around the castle was enough to send Harry into a fit of panic, but he forced himself to stay calm. He mounted his Firebolt and shot off after Ivan. 

"This way!" Ivan shouted from somewhere to Harry's right, and Harry turned his Firebolt and flew down a dark corridor, seeing Ivan's white shirt dance somewhere in front of him. 

Even on his Firebolt, Harry had trouble keeping up with Ivan, who moved like the predator he was, sniffing the air repeatedly while he ran through the castle. They passed several students, all of whom jumped aside in shock at the sight of a man moving at inhuman speed and Harry Potter chasing him on his broom. 

"Potter!" Snape's voice suddenly sounded when they'd moved into the dungeons. 

Harry was unable to avoid a collision, and as Snape fell to the floor in a growling heap, Harry yelled over his shoulder, "It's Pettigrew! Get the headmaster!" Harry didn't know if Snape did his bidding because Ivan moved into a deeper part of the dungeons and Harry followed him in a mad dash. 

"Bloody fucking hell." Ivan kicked against the wall that cut off their path. They'd reached a dead end somewhere deep inside the dungeons. Harry lowered his Firebolt and touched his feet to the ground. His legs were trembling and he was panting. 

Ivan pressed his ear against the stone wall for a moment. "He's in the pipes and from what I can tell he's moving out of the castle."

"The moment he's out of Hogwarts, off the grounds, he'll apparate," Harry said, his shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry, puppy," Ivan said, and ran a hand through Harry's hair. 

"Nah, don't be. You smelled him in the first place. Who knows how long he's been spying in the castle. If it even was him, that is."

"It was," said a grave voice behind them. Harry turned on his feet and saw Dumbledore standing there. "Mr Weasley showed me your map and it indicated that Pettigrew was indeed inside the castle. And from what I know, that map never lies."

"It doesn't," Harry said and glanced between Ivan and Dumbledore. "This is bad, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid it is," Dumbledore said. "I would appreciate it if you two joined me in my office for a brief meeting."

Ivan raised a curious eyebrow.

"Yes, you too, Mr Storkavic. I fear this also involves you."

Harry leaned his Firebolt on his shoulder and followed Dumbledore, Ivan walking quietly beside him. The rumour mill at Hogwarts once again proved to work faster than a racing broom, because when they left the dungeons and entered the Entrance Hall there were students of every House assembled there. 

McGonagall and Sprout were trying to herd everyone back to their common rooms, saying nothing had happened. But when Dumbledore emerged, followed by Harry and Ivan, the students erupted in loud chatter, effectively silencing McGonagall and Sprout. Harry spotted Ron and Hermione near the staircase and he mouthed at them that he'd explain later. They gave him both a nod and continued to glance at him with worried frowns. 

Dumbledore led them up the spiral staircase and into his office. There they saw Sirius standing on one side of the room, Snape on the other and Bill in the middle as the neutral barrier, trying to keep the peace.

"Harry, what happened?" Sirius asked as he grabbed Harry into a tight embrace.

"Ivan smelled an odd rat so we chased it," Harry mumbled, reluctantly letting go of Sirius. Before Sirius could respond, there was a loud 'whoosh' and Remus stepped out of the fireplace, followed by Patrick. 

"What's going on?" Patrick asked, glancing between the men in the room. "You all right, love?"

"Just peachy," Ivan said and then got distracted by a trinket on one of the side tables. Tilting his head, Ivan poked the small spheres that twisted around each other, but stopped when Dumbledore cleared his throat. 

"Please, everyone, have a seat." Dumbledore sat down behind his desk, and as Harry sank into a chair beside Sirius he noticed the Marauder's Map spread open on the desk in front of him.

"Now, Harry, if you would be so kind as to tell us what happened."

Harry cleared his throat. "Ron and I ran into Ivan in the corridors and we chatted a bit until Ivan said he smelled something odd. A rat that smelled like a mortal."

Sirius let out a low growl and Remus put his hand on Sirius' thigh to give it a small squeeze. 

"So I sent Ron to get the map and go to the headmaster while Ivan and I chased the rat. But we lost him in the dungeons when we ran into a dead end."

"Was it Pettigrew?" Remus asked, looking pointedly at the map. 

"Yes, indeed it was," Dumbledore said. "Mr Weasley and I saw him on the map, just before he managed to escape the castle."

"I can't believe the nerve of that filthy traitor," Sirius snarled. Remus squeezed his thigh again. 

"Wait," Patrick said, frowning. "Pettigrew? Isn't he dead?"

"No, he most certainly isn't," Remus said. "He staged his own death, framed Sirius, and then spent twelve years as a rat before he went back to his old master."

"He's the reason Sirius was sent to Azkaban," Harry said. 

"Ah," Patrick said, nodding. "And I assume he's an Animagus? A rat?"

"Yep," Harry said.

"How the hell was he able to get into the castle in the first place?" Sirius asked, his blue eyes darkening as he glared at Dumbledore. 

"This is an old castle, Sirius," Dumbledore said patiently. "While our doors are guarded well, not every crack in the walls is. Something as small as a rat should have no problems moving in and out of the castle, I'm afraid."

"He used the sewers," Ivan said, his tone almost bored. "I heard him move through the pipes."

"Who knows how long he's been spying on us," Bill said, his eyes wide as he looked at Dumbledore. 

"Yes, exactly, Bill." Dumbledore glanced at the map and then looked up at Harry. "I assume you haven't seen him on the map at all this year?"

"No, I haven't," Harry said. "But then again, I don't look at it the whole day." He could feel Snape's narrowed gaze on him. "Only brief moments to make sure it's...safe."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "We must assume, then, that this wasn't Pettigrew's first visit this school year. And we must try to deduce what he might have overheard inside this castle."

Harry swallowed and tried to remember the things he'd talked about inside the castle at one point or another. His lessons with Snape and Remus. His chats with Bill. His talks with his friends in the Room of Requirement. Worrying his lip, he looked up at Dumbledore. "Everything," he said. "My secret, certainly." Then he thought about all the evenings he'd spent with Sirius and Remus in the Shack. Wormtail knew about the Shack. "And more stuff. Private things."

"Such as?" Dumbledore asked, peering at Harry over his long nose. 

Harry wasn't able to continue and he glanced up at Sirius and Remus, hoping they'd know what to say. 

"Ah," Ivan said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "You're talking about all those sandwiches you've been making with the dog and the wolf."

Harry really liked Ivan, but at that moment he wished for a stake so he could slam it through Ivan's heart. 

"What?" Snape snarled, leaning forward in his chair so he could glare at Sirius and Remus.

"Severus, please," Dumbledore said, and Snape snapped his gaze at the headmaster. 

"You knew? And you condoned this?"

"I didn't know, Severus, although I did have my suspicions. But Harry is an adult wizard and thus it is none of my business. Nor is it yours."

Snape glared at Sirius and bared his crooked teeth. "You paedophile."

Sirius was on his feet before anyone could stop him and threw himself at Snape, toppling his chair back so they both stumbled to the floor. Sirius punched Snape in the face with a loud crack, but Snape managed to grab his wand and blasted Sirius off him with a muttered spell. Ivan jumped up and had his hand curled around Snape's throat before Patrick could pull him back in his seat. 

"Enough!" Dumbledore bellowed in a voice that made Harry flinch. Ivan glanced over his shoulder at Dumbledore and then released Snape ever so slowly. Sirius, who'd been thrown against the far wall by Snape's hex, scrambled to his feet and shook his head, seemingly composing himself. 

"What the hell did you do that for?" Patrick asked when Ivan sat down beside him again. 

"Batboy used hocus pocus while dogboy didn't even have his stick out. That's not a fair fight. I don't like unfair fights," Ivan said, studying his fingernails. Harry had to stifle a nervous laugh at the astonished look Snape shot Ivan. Sirius sat down beside Harry again, his arms crossed and his face a thundercloud. 

"Let me repeat, Severus, that what Harry does in his private time is none of our business," Dumbledore said, glaring at Snape, who scowled darkly in return. "Nor is it customary to attack fellow members of the Order." Dumbledore glared at Sirius, who stared up at the ceiling. "Or to get involved in an argument that has nothing to do with you." Dumbledore now fixed his gaze on Ivan, who slapped an offended hand against his chest. 

"Now for the matter at hand. We must assume Pettigrew learned some information Harry would rather have kept to himself, such as the fact that Harry is on friendly terms with Mr Storkavic," Dumbledore said in his familiar, calm voice. 

Harry glanced at Ivan and wondered what Wormtail might have heard or seen of their exchange. 

"While that in itself gives Voldemort little advantage, we must assume he will be keeping a close eye on Mr Storkavic from now on, in the hopes of catching Harry in his presence outside the school grounds. Therefore I must ask you, Harry, not to visit Mr Storkavic and Mr McKinley again." Dumbledore glanced at Sirius and Remus. "And this, of course, also goes for you two."

Pursing his lips, Harry nodded, unable to look at either Ivan and Patrick. He enjoyed his visits with his new friends, especially now that Sirius and Remus were on reasonably good terms with them as well. But he realized that Dumbledore did have a point. If Voldemort knew Harry was friends with them, it would be all too easy for him to try to catch Harry in their company, away from the safety Hogwarts offered him. 

"I understand, sir," Harry whispered. He felt Sirius reach for his hand and squeeze it, something Harry appreciated. 

"Aye," Patrick agreed. "If that bastard sends half a dozen of his cronies after us, looking for you, we won't be able to protect you, lad."

Ivan snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, looking quite displeased. However, he didn't disagree. 

"I must also ask you, Harry, not to meet Sirius and Remus in the Shrieking Shack again," Dumbledore said. 

Harry snapped his gaze up, feeling despair boiling inside of him. He needed his time with Sirius and Remus. "Sir, please," he objected. 

"Albus," Sirius started, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him. 

"I wasn't quite finished," he said, his lips curving up in a smile. "You will see Sirius and Remus, Harry. You will be spending the nights at Grimmauld Place from now on."

"Huh?" Harry said, dumbfounded. 

"I believe that for your own safety and for the safety of your housemates, it would be best if you spend the nights in a place no one can find you. During the day, you are quite safe at Hogwarts, but the nights are a different matter. A rat could easily slip inside Gryffindor Tower while you are asleep."

"Bloody hell," Sirius said and Harry shared that sentiment. The idea that Pettigrew might have been able to hurt him all that time wasn't a very pleasant one. 

"You may use my fireplace to travel back and forth between the castle and Grimmauld Place," Dumbledore said. "The password to my office is Pumpkin Pasty, in case I'm not available."

"Thank you, sir," Harry whispered. He felt torn about Dumbledore's announcements. Of course, he was happy to be spending time at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus, but at the same time, he was worried about his friends. What if Wormtail came looking for him in their dormitory and he wasn't there? What if he took it out on Ron or Neville instead?

"The last thing I must stress is to keep all talk about sensitive issues to a minimum inside the castle. We now know Voldemort has eyes and ears here as well, and while we'll be doing everything in our power to keep those eyes and ears out, we mustn't take unnecessary risks."

Everyone nodded their agreement. 

"And in cases where you cannot avoid talking about certain details, please use the necessary locking, blocking and silencing charms." Dumbledore gave Harry a warm smile. "Why don't you go pack a few things, Harry, so you can accompany Sirius and Remus back to Grimmauld Place. Remus, Bill, would you mind giving Harry an escort to Gryffindor Tower?"

"Of course not," Bill said, getting up from his seat. Remus nodded his consent and got up as well. After taking a deep breath, Harry pushed himself up from his chair and looked at Ivan and Patrick. 

"You'll be seeing us around, puppy," Ivan said. Harry nodded and tried to give Ivan a smile, but it didn't quite work. 

"Cheers, lad," Patrick said. Harry gave him a not-quite-smile as well, and then let Remus lead him out of Dumbledore's office, Bill following close behind. 

They didn't say much during their walk to Gryffindor Tower. There were a million things Harry wanted to say, but his experience with Wormtail held him back. He decided to wait until they got to Grimmauld Place, and then bury Remus and Sirius under his thoughts and worries. 

The common room was crowded with students, who all looked up when Harry entered with Remus and Bill. The older students recognized Remus and greeted him with surprised smiles, but the younger ones had little idea who he was, something that saddened Harry for inexplicable reasons. 

"I'll help you pack," Remus whispered to Harry while Bill raised his hands to silence the chatter among the students and give them a brief explanation of what had happened. Harry noticed Ron and Neville, and he tilted his head in the direction of the stairs to signal them to follow. 

"I saw him on the map," was the first thing Ron said when he closed the dormitory door behind him.

"Yeah, I know. Dumbledore told us," Harry said, and then glanced around the room, trying to decide what he needed to take with him. Remus sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, a sight that pleased Harry until he realized that he wouldn't be sleeping in that bed any longer. It was a very odd realization, because even though he'd cursed Hogwarts many times over the last few months, it had been his home for seven years and now Harry felt as if he were leaving part of that behind him. 

Swallowing, since his throat had suddenly gone dry, Harry opened his trunk and pulled out a change of clothes. 

"What's going on?" Ron asked. 

"Dumbledore decided that I'll be spending the nights at Grimmauld Place from now on," Harry said. "For my safety and for yours."

"What? He can't do that," Ron said, despair colouring his voice. 

"Ron," Remus said, looking at him with a patient smile. "There's only one person in this castle who Pettigrew's interested in and it's safer for everyone if that person is out of the castle."

Ron seemed speechless and sank down on his own bed, staring at Harry in disbelief. 

"I understand," Neville said, but he didn't look very happy with this new development, either. 

Harry shrugged, stuffing his clothes into his bag. "I'll get the rest later," he said, looking at Remus. He felt a bit lost and didn't think he could pack up everything just yet. 

"That's all right, Harry. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. Let's not keep Sirius waiting," Harry said and then looked at Ron and Neville. "I'll be back tomorrow morning."

"See you then," Neville said. Ron said nothing and fidgeted with the hem of one of his blankets. 

Harry ignored the excited chatter in the common room and followed Remus and Bill out of Gryffindor Tower. When they arrived back in Dumbledore's office, Harry saw Ivan and Patrick were gone, as was Snape. Sirius rose from his seat and Harry gave him a small smile as they gathered in front of the fireplace. 

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "Don't forget your map." He handed Harry the Marauder's Map, and Harry accepted it, surprised. He'd thought Dumbledore would confiscate it for sure. 

"I advise you to keep a close eye on it during your days at school," Dumbledore said. 

"I will," Harry said. "Thank you."

A few handfuls of Floo powder took them to Grimmauld Place, and Harry stumbled out of the fireplace and right into Sirius' arms. 

"I can't say I'm not glad to have you home," Sirius whispered. "But I wish it had been under better circumstances." He kissed Harry and then gave him a brief hug. 

"I couldn't agree with you more, Padfoot," Remus said. He gave Harry a kiss as well, and then they sat down at the table while Remus summoned a bottle of wine. He poured them all a glass and Harry accepted one, but didn't drink it. Instead, he just stared into the dark red liquid, wondering how his world could fall apart so rapidly without any warning. 

"It'll be all right, Harry," Sirius said. Harry only shrugged in response, unable to think of anything to say even though there were so many thoughts flying through his mind he was getting a headache. He felt exhausted and defeated, as if Malfoy had just snatched the Snitch before he could. Only now, it wasn't a game, but something that affected Harry's entire life and everything he held dear. 

"Perhaps we should just go to bed," Remus said. Harry glanced up at him and noticed Remus hadn't drunk any of his wine either. Beside him, Sirius let out a deep sigh and nodded. 

They walked up the stairs without saying a word and inside their bedroom, they got undressed in silence. Harry placed his glasses on the nightstand and crawled under the sheets. While he stared up at the ceiling, Remus and Sirius lay down on either side of him, and then Remus turned off the gas lamp on the nightstand and they were suddenly surrounded by darkness. 

Harry didn't close his eyes but kept staring up into nothing, listening to Sirius' and Remus' irregular breathing, which indicated they were both wide awake as well.

"How much do you think he's seen of us?" Harry finally asked, his voice seeming louder than usual in the dark room. 

"It doesn't matter," Sirius replied to Harry's left. Harry felt Sirius shift a little closer so their shoulders touched. "Even if that rat knows about us, there's nothing he or Voldemort can do with it. Right, Moony?"

Remus sighed on Harry's right side and Harry turned his face to look at him, even though he couldn't actually see him in the darkness. 

"I don't think there's anything they can do with that information," Remus said. "It's just like Dumbledore said. Harry's an adult wizard, and no one can tell him who he can or can't shag."

Harry considered this for a moment. It was good to know that no one could take him away from Sirius and Remus, but it still stung that Wormtail of all people knew about them. Might have seen them together. Harry shuddered at that thought and he felt Sirius reach for his hand in response, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"What about my job?" Harry asked softly. "What about Egypt? What if Wormtail heard that as well?"

"Fuck," Sirius sighed, squeezing Harry's hand again but harder this time. Harry swallowed against something bitter rising up from his chest.

"I'm not sure," Remus said. "If he knows about our plans, then it would be all too easy for Voldemort to go after you there. But we're not even sure he does know."

"I don't care if he knows," Harry said with determination. "I'm not going to hide for the rest of my life because that bastard is still out there. Voldemort can just go fuck himself for all I care. I'm not going to let him ruin this as well."

"Harry," Remus started, stroking his hand across Harry's arm. 

"No, Moony, he's got a point," Sirius said and turned on his side, placing his hand on Harry's chest. "I'm sick and tired of hiding as well. When you finish school, Harry, we're out of here, I promise."

"And then what?" Remus snorted. "We'll just go live happily ever after in Egypt, hoping Voldemort won't find us and the goblins won't join his side after all?"

"Well, maybe not Egypt until the war is over," Sirius said. "But we could go to Canada. Buy a nice cabin up in the mountains somewhere. Or we could go to Australia or New Zealand and get a sheep farm. You already got yourselves a good dog to herd the sheep."

Harry smiled despite feeling miserable.

"I'm just saying." Sirius shifted closer to Harry and kissed his throat. "There are tons of things we can do. I promise we won't stay here, hiding. We'll get you a good life, Harry."

"All right," Harry whispered, and some of the tension in his chest melted away. "I'm just so sick of it. I just want it to stop."

In response, both Sirius and Remus pushed closer and Harry was enveloped between two warm, familiar bodies. 

"It will stop," Remus said and pressed a kiss to Harry's temple. 

"And if it doesn't, we'll make it stop," Sirius said. Harry nodded against Sirius' shoulder. He didn't think he'd ever felt so grateful for having both Sirius and Remus before. Closing his eyes, Harry tried to relax, but it took him a long time before he finally fell asleep. 

He dreamed about the full moon and Padfoot and Moony, and he almost wished he would see that white door again so he could enter it and give Voldemort a piece of his mind. But it didn't appear and far too soon for Harry's liking, Sirius shook his shoulder to wake him up. 

"Don't want to get up," Harry mumbled against his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"Remus, kick him out, will you? I'll make some breakfast."

Harry heard Sirius walk out of the room and he snuggled closer to Remus until Remus pulled the sheets off him. 

"Oi, that's cold," Harry protested, hugging his pillow while he curled up against the mattress. 

"Get up, Harry," Remus said and then slapped his bare arse. "Time to get ready for school."

With a deep sigh, Harry pushed himself up from the bed and shuffled towards the bathroom. After a quick shower he shuffled back to the bedroom and got dressed with very little enthusiasm. He was looking up to seeing his friends again, for some reason. He wondered if he should tell them his new job in Egypt was probably not going to happen now they'd discovered a spy at Hogwarts. 

"You need something to eat to keep your strength up," Sirius said after Harry entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. Sirius filled Harry's plate with eggs and bacon and Harry stared at it for a while. When Sirius cleared his throat for the third time, Harry finally picked up his knife and fork and attempted to eat. He wasn't feeling hungry in the slightest. 

"Are you staying at Hogwarts for supper, or will you be home by then?" Sirius asked after he'd finished his own plate. 

"I'll be home," Harry said. The idea of having to sit in a packed Great Hall sent shivers down his spine. 

"Why don't you talk to Bill about it," Remus suggested with a smile. "He'll certainly be able to tell you more about any security measures we'd be able to take in Egypt."

Harry glanced up at him. "That's a good idea. I will."

"Time to go," Sirius said and pulled Harry close for a kiss. Harry gave him a small smile and after a hug and kiss from Remus, he picked up his bag and used the fireplace to floo to Dumbledore's office. 

The headmaster greeted him with a cheerful smile, and Harry returned it politely and then made his way down to the Charms classroom for his first class. 

And that became Harry's routine for the next week. He went to his classes dutifully and spent most of his free time at home with Sirius and Remus. 

The only positive thing that happened was Bill telling him that Goblins had very tight security on their employees and there was a good chance Harry could move to Egypt without any problems, just as they had planned. That and the lessons Bill gave him in curse-breaking, or rather the history of it, made Harry feel slightly better.

*~*~*~*~*

"Stay after class, Potter," Snape said the next Thursday when Harry was putting away his Potions supplies. When everyone else had left, Harry followed Snape through a side door into his office. Snape handed him a steaming goblet, which Harry knew was his Wolfsbane potion.

"Thanks," he said. He stared at it for a moment, wondering if he should ask Snape if he'd tampered with it again like he had the previous month. But Harry realized it wasn't a good idea to be pissing Snape off at that moment, since Snape was going to fill in for him that evening at the Ministry. So he raised the goblet to his lips and drank the foul potion as quickly as he could. It still tasted horrible and it made Harry's eyes water. 

"Were you able to brew to Polyjuice Potion, sir?" he asked quietly while he handed the empty goblet back to Snape. 

"I was. It should work sufficiently," Snape said, and only then did Harry realize he might have blown their cover should Wormtail be around at that moment to spy on them. Feeling panicked, Harry reached inside his bag and pulled the map out. After he activated it, he quickly scanned it and was relieved to see that Pettigrew didn't show up on it. 

Snape cleared his throat and glared at Harry, who stared up at him, now realizing Snape still had the authority to confiscate his map. 

"Um..." he said, fidgeting with the map in his hands. 

"Get out, Potter," Snape said, scowling. Harry didn't think he'd ever obeyed Snape so quickly as he ran out of Snape's office. 

Later that afternoon, during Herbology, Dumbledore entered the greenhouse. He nodded at Professor Sprout and then turned to look at Harry. 

"Mr Potter, it is time to get ready for your Ministry appointment."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He shook the sand off his hands and picked up his bag. 

"Good luck, mate," Ron whispered. Harry smiled at him. While his friends didn't know the exact plan, they did know Harry wouldn't be going to the Ministry himself. Harry was amused that Ron played along with it. 

"We'll see you later, Harry," Hermione said, and Harry gave her a smile as well before he followed Dumbledore out of the greenhouse. They didn't speak until they reached Dumbledore's office. Snape was already there, pacing in front of the fireplace. 

"Give me your glasses, Potter," he said the moment Dumbledore closed the door. Harry slid them off and handed them to Snape wordlessly. 

Snape pulled a pair of thick-rimmed glasses from his robes and placed them alongside Harry's on Dumbledore's desk. Then he reached for his wand and muttered a spell. The thick-rimmed glasses morphed into an exact copy of Harry's glasses. 

"It is time, Severus," Dumbledore said. Snape nodded and picked up a goblet filled with a thick potion. Harry recognized it from his second year, when Hermione had brewed it for them. Snape drank it in a few gulps, his eyes squeezed shut and his hooked nose wrinkled.

Harry watched in horrified fascination as Snape began to morph, his skin bubbling and his long hair retreating into his skull and losing its greasy shine. His body shrank and his nose transformed into the modest one Harry sported. 

And then Harry was staring at an exact replica of himself, dressed in oversized, black robes. 

"I took the liberty of having Dobby fetch a pair of your school robes, Harry," Dumbledore said, handing the Gryffindor robes to Snape. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Harry said, still staring at himself. The new Harry stared back, his brow knitted into a tight frown. "I don't scowl like that," Harry said, unable to resist a grin. 

"Potter," the other Harry growled in a voice that sounded very much like Snape. "Turn around."

Both Harry and Dumbledore turned around and they listened to the sound of rustling fabric. Harry studied the many portraits of the old headmasters and Dumbledore hummed a merry tune under his breath. 

"You may turn around," Harry's voice said from behind them. Harry turned and his mouth dropped open. It was like he was staring in a mirror. The other Harry had slid on his glasses, and combined with the Gryffindor school robes he was now wearing, he looked exactly like Harry always did. 

"God," Harry whispered. Dumbledore chuckled beside him, glancing from Harry to Snape and back. 

"It's perfect," Dumbledore said with a satisfied smile. "Now, Severus, please let me do the talking at the Ministry. There are still ways you could give your true identity away."

Harry tried not to snicker and the other Harry scowled darkly. 

"Rest assured, Headmaster," Snape said in a voice exactly like Harry's, "I do believe I'm capable of acting the part of a conceited Gryffindor."

Now it was Harry who scowled.

"Yes, I'm sure you are, Severus," Dumbledore said, and turned to Harry. "You're free to go home, Harry. We'll contact you in the morning to let you know how it went."

"Thank you," Harry said and reached for his bag. "Good luck," he added to his counterpart. 

"Luck has nothing to do with it, Potter," the other Harry said and then glared at Dumbledore. "And I do believe it is time we discussed a raise, Headmaster."

Harry snickered and threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. A few moments later he fell into the kitchen of twelve Grimmauld Place. Sirius and Remus sat at the kitchen table and Harry joined them, dropping his bag to the floor as he slid into a seat. 

"They're off to the Ministry," Harry said and smiled his thanks when Remus poured him a cup of tea. "It was really weird to see Snape as me."

Remus chuckled, but Sirius' eyes narrowed. "I know this was the only solution," Sirius said. "But I'm not happy with this."

"Why not?" Remus asked, arching an eyebrow. 

"Snape in Harry's body," Sirius said. When both Remus and Harry looked at him in confusion, Sirius heaved a sigh. "Imagine what he can do with Harry's body. With himself. I'm just not too keen on Snape fondling anything of Harry's."

Snorting with laughter, Remus waved Sirius' comment away. Harry, however, stared at Sirius in horror. 

"Oh god," he whispered, images of Snape in his body fondling himself flashing through his mind. "That's just..." Harry didn't finish, but shuddered instead.

"Exactly," Sirius said. 

"Please." Remus shook his head. "Severus will be too busy at the Ministry to be fondling anything."

"What if he has to use the loo?" Sirius said, pointing a finger at Remus. "He'll have to touch Harry's cock then."

"Oh god," Harry said again. He didn't want Snape to see his prick, let alone touch it.

"Both of you, stop it," Remus said, stifling a laugh. "We should be grateful Severus is doing this for Harry. For us."

"I suppose," Harry said, trying to think of anything but Snape and his own cock. Sirius merely grunted and gulped down the last of his tea.

"Are you hungry?" Sirius asked Harry. 

"A bit," Harry said. He wasn't really hungry but he knew he could use some food, what with his upcoming transformation that evening. 

"How about some sandwiches?"

Harry nodded and Sirius pushed himself up to fix them a light supper. They ate in silence, Harry too worried to make small talk. Would Snape be able to convince the Ministry? Would his Wolfsbane potion work this evening? Harry already felt a tickle under his skin, alerting him that the full moon was close to rising. Remus shot him a small smile and Harry managed to return it. 

"Come on, it's time," Sirius said, directing the empty plates to the sink with a few flicks of his wand. Harry pushed himself up and followed Remus out of the kitchen, Sirius close behind them. 

They'd decided to use the hidden cellar room again after the fiasco during the last full moon. Sirius banged against the wooden panel on the wall and they all took a step back as they watched it slide open. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry followed Sirius and Remus down the creaky stairs. He knew it was safest to transform inside the cell, but the idea of being trapped in there for a whole night should the Wolfsbane potion not work was too horrible for words.

Harry undressed, feeling the rising moon pull on his flesh and nerves fill his churning stomach. Sirius took his clothes from him and folded them with more care than was necessary. Remus took Harry's hand and led him inside the cell. While Harry sat down on the blanket on the ground, Sirius shut the barred door and locked it with a resounding click. 

"You'll be fine, Harry," Remus whispered, pulling Harry close. Harry leaned against Remus and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to flee. There was no escape, he knew. The tickle under his skin grew more persistent, and Harry focused on his own breathing and on Remus' until the pain struck. 

And the moment Harry felt the wolf force its way out of him, he knew the Wolfsbane potion was working. Blue was there, clawing his way out, but Harry was there as well. They were one, but Harry was in charge. 

When the transformation was finally over, Harry lay panting against the floor. 

"Harry?" Sirius asked. Harry smiled and wagged his tail in response and then crawled to his feet. Or rather, his huge paws. Moony gave him a sloppy lick over his nose and Harry smiled and wagged his tail before he bounced towards the bars. Sirius unlocked the door and Harry jumped up to his hind legs to give Sirius a generous lick across his cheek.

And then Padfoot was there, tackling Harry to the ground. They wrestled for a moment, nipping at each other's muzzles playfully, until Moony jumped on top of both of them and let out a victorious howl. They ran up the stairs and then down to the kitchen where Padfoot opened the back door. 

There was snow, so much snow, and Harry darted through it and smelled it and tasted it, and it tasted quite good, so he ate more and more until his stomach felt as if it were frozen. 

Padfoot barked and Moony yipped, and Harry chased them through the yard, around the trees until he felt dizzy. He lost his balance and slumped down in the snow and then rolled on his back to rub himself in it. Padfoot pounced on him, as did Moony, and Harry yipped in excitement. 

They spent most of the night outside, chasing and playing and howling. Finally, Moony trotted to the back door and Padfoot and Harry followed him inside the house obediently. Moony and Harry lay in front of the kitchen fireplace, letting their rough fur dry while Padfoot transformed into Sirius and made himself a strong cup of tea to get warm again. 

Harry licked Moony's muzzle and Sirius' hands and he felt drowsy and happy. He was with his pack and strangely enough, all his previous worries didn't seem that important anymore. 

"Let's go upstairs," Sirius said, rising from his seat. Harry followed him to their bedroom and jumped on their bed, Moony by his side. Harry felt the full moon set and his howls turned to screams while his body forced itself back to its original state. The pain was consuming and overwhelming, as it always was when he transformed back, and by the time Harry was himself again, he felt exhausted and couldn't even keep his eyes open anymore. 

Sirius helped both Harry and Remus under the covers and joined them there, stroking Harry's hair with a soothing touch. Harry burrowed himself deeper under the blankets and fell into a deep sleep almost at once.

*~*~*~*~*

Soft whispers woke Harry up and he turned on his back, wincing at his protesting muscles. He looked up and saw both Sirius and Remus sitting up against the headboard. They smiled at him and Harry returned it.

"Dumbledore came by earlier," Sirius said, and Harry's still sleepy mind woke up at once. "He had good news."

"They bought it?" Harry asked, ignoring his aching body as he pushed himself up to sit between Sirius and Remus. 

"They did," Sirius said, grinning. "You are now officially no longer suspected of being an unregistered werewolf."

"Fuck, yes!" Harry yelled, and then moaned when his spine sent sharp surges of pain through his body. 

"Easy there," Remus said, and gave Harry a soft kiss. Harry grinned and got a kiss from Sirius as well. He didn't think he'd ever felt this relieved before, as if a big part of his life was all right again. Now that this was dealt with, the rest didn't seem so hopeless anymore, either. 

"How about you two slip into a few clothes and come downstairs so I can fix you some supper?" Sirius suggested. Harry nodded and pushed himself off the bed slowly. He accepted the pyjamas and dressing gown Sirius handed him and dressed himself, careful not to strain his sore body too much. Remus slipped into similar attire and they made their way downstairs with small steps, Harry holding onto Sirius' arm for support. 

"What time is it?" he asked when they were halfway down the hallway. 

"About half past six," Sirius said. "You both slept the whole day away."

"We had a busy night," Remus said, smiling. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It was a good night."

Sirius grinned, but before he could say anything, a loud crack sounded from the drawing room. 

"What was that?" Harry asked. Sirius said nothing, but pulled his wand out, and Harry followed his example. Remus had reached for his wand as well and pushed Harry behind him as he strode towards the drawing room. 

"Ivan, wake up!"

Harry glanced at Remus, who lowered his wand, apparently thinking that Patrick's sudden presence didn't offer much of a threat. They stepped inside the drawing room and saw a naked Patrick crouching on the floor, his wand in his hand, shaking Ivan's motionless body. 

"What happened?" Remus asked. 

"Death Eaters," Patrick replied without looking up. "Sorry for barging in like this, but I couldn't think of anywhere else to go."

"Don't worry about it," Sirius said, crouching down on Ivan's other side. "What's wrong with him?"

"He insisted on playing the hero and stepped in front of a few curses. Killing Curses," Patrick said and then slapped Ivan's cheek. "Wake up, love!"

"Death Eaters?" Harry asked, glancing up at Remus worriedly. 

"Aye. Six of them. They burst into our room in the Hog's Head. I'd only just woken up. Ivan threw himself at them and I was in no bloody state to fight, so after he managed to snap the necks of two of them and drive the other four back, I grabbed him and apparated here."

Remus heaved a deep sigh and then pointed his wand in the direction of the stairs. "Accio dressing gown," he said, and a moment later Sirius' dressing gown came flying into the room. Remus caught it and draped it over Patrick's shoulders. 

"Will he be all right?" Harry asked softly, staring down at Ivan. He looked so dead, now that he wasn't moving or breathing. 

"Eventually. He's got a lot of magic in his system now. He'll need blood to get rid of it," Patrick said, stroking his palm down Ivan's cheek. Ivan gave no response whatsoever. 

"He can have some of my blood," Harry said. Sirius made a protesting sound, but Patrick beat him to it. 

"That won't work, lad. To heal, Ivan needs mortal blood. Human blood."

"Oh," Harry said. He worried his lip and glanced at Sirius. 

"Oh no," Sirius said before Harry could even make a suggestion. 

"I'll contact Duncan," Patrick said. "If you can spare some clothes, I'll use the fireplace to go to the club. I'm in no state to apparate again, but I should be able to handle a bit of Floo travelling."

"Of course," Remus said. 

Suddenly, a shrill beeping noise sounded through the room. Patrick reached inside the pocket of Ivan's leather trousers and pulled his mobile phone out. He flipped it open and held it against his ear, frowning. 

"It's Patrick...hey, Duncan...calm down...what?...are you all right?...no, Ivan's not available right now...he needs blood...fuck...go to that pub...yes, The Blushing Maid...wait there...I'll meet you there or I'll send someone...it'll be all right, Duncan..."

Patrick clicked the phone shut and looked up at Remus and Harry. "They got the club as well. Set it on fire."

"Is Duncan okay?" Harry asked. 

"A bit shocked, but still walking," Patrick said, and looked down at Ivan again. "I won't be able to get any blood from them tonight, though. Fucking hell."

Harry stepped closer to Sirius and nudged him with his knee. Sirius snapped his gaze up at Harry and frowned. 

"How much does he need?" Harry asked. Sirius narrowed his eyes. 

"Not that much. It won't hurt a healthy human," Patrick said and looked at Sirius questioningly. 

Sirius gritted his teeth and then sighed. "Fine. He can have some of my blood. Happy now?" He glanced up at Harry again, who gave him a winning smile. 

"Just press your wrist against his mouth. His reflexes should do the rest," Patrick said. Sirius nodded, raised his arm, pulled his sleeve back and did as Patrick had instructed. For a moment, nothing happened, but then Ivan's lips moved and Sirius inhaled a sharp breath. 

Harry watched as Ivan's Adam's Apple bobbed up and down, his lips moving steadily against Sirius' wrist. 

"Oh," Sirius said and fell back on his arse, his eyes glazing over. Harry stared at Sirius' face, which screwed up in a familiar expression. One Harry normally saw when they were shagging. Harry shared an amused glance with Remus. 

"Oh, fuck," Sirius sighed, and then he made a throaty sound while his body jerked and his wrist fell away from Ivan's mouth. 

Blinking his eyes open, Ivan looked up at Sirius. "Was it as good for you as it was for me, dogboy?" he whispered hoarsely. Sirius said nothing, but only stared at Ivan with a mixture of horror and awe written across his face. 

"You all right, love?" Patrick asked, helping Ivan sit up. 

"I am now," Ivan said, wiping his mouth with his hand. Patrick narrowed his eyes and slapped Ivan on the back of the head. 

"What were you thinking, taking on those curses?" Patrick growled. 

"Ow," Ivan whimpered, reaching for his head. "I've got a splitting headache already, love. And you weren't fit to fight. I had to do something."

"Idiot," Patrick muttered, and then pulled Ivan close in a half-hug. "You can't take on six wizards like that."

"I killed two of them," Ivan protested weakly, leaning against Patrick. "And I drove the other four back, didn't I? I can't remember it that well."

"You passed out, love," Patrick said. 

"I did not pass out!" Ivan pulled back from Patrick and narrowed his eyes. "I was just...resting." 

"Of course you were," Patrick replied in a disbelieving tone. Ivan huffed and then glanced at Sirius, who still sported a slightly shocked expression. 

"Thanks for that very generous donation, darling." Ivan licked his lips and winked. "And you might want to change your pants. Those stains will get itchy when they dry."

An unusual blush crept up Sirius' cheeks and he wouldn't meet either Harry's or Remus' eyes. Harry looked between Sirius and Ivan and then something occurred to him.

"Did you...um...you know?" he asked, frowning down at Sirius. 

"He creamed his trousers, yes," Ivan answered before Sirius could. Sirius' eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. 

"Don't worry about it, Black," Patrick said. "It's a natural side effect of a vampire bite, if there's no intention of killing you."

Sirius released a relieved sigh. "Good. Because this hasn't happened to me since I was sixteen." He reached for his wand and muttered a quick cleaning spell. "That's better," he said, and glanced up at Harry and Remus, an insecure gleam in his eyes. 

Harry shrugged and then looked to his side to see Remus giving Sirius a reassuring smile. Harry's knees started to ache from standing so long, and he reached for Remus' arm. 

"I need to sit," he whispered. Remus nodded and they both made their way to the couch, leaning on each other as much as they could. 

Ivan got up as well, but swayed on his feet when he'd straightened himself. Patrick grabbed his elbow and steadied him. They both shuffled to the couch and Sirius watched them all with an amused smile. 

"Dear me, aren't we all a bunch of wrecks?" he said, lowering himself in one of the leather chairs. 

Ivan shot him a brief glare and then waved at Harry. "Move over if you will, puppy." Harry scooted closer to Remus and both Ivan and Patrick sat down with a tired sigh. 

"There's more," Patrick said after a moment of silence. "Duncan called while you were out, love. They got the club as well. And your apartment. Burned it to the ground."

Harry knew that technically, Ivan couldn't look any paler than he already did, but he swore he saw blood drain from Ivan's cheeks. Ivan slowly turned his face towards Patrick.

"They? Wizards?"

Patrick nodded. "Cloaked wizards with white masks. Death Eaters."

"They dared touch what's mine?" Ivan roared. Harry flinched away from him, pressing closer to Remus. "Where's Duncan? I've got to see him," Ivan said, trying to push himself up, but Patrick caught his arm.

"You're in no state to go anywhere, Ivan," Patrick whispered. "Duncan is safe. I told him to wait for us in that pub."

Running his hands over his face, Ivan leaned back against the couch. "I'm going to kill that snake for touching what is mine," he muttered, gritting his teeth. "How dare he threaten those who belong to me."

"But why did he attack you all of a sudden?" Harry asked softly. "I thought he wanted your alliance."

"Because they've been getting a bit too friendly with you for his liking, I bet," Sirius said. 

"And he waited until after the full moon, to make sure one of us was weak," Patrick added, narrowing his eyes. "That miserable bastard."

 

"Or perhaps he waited to see how Harry's hearing would go," Remus mused. Harry shot him a confused look. "Imagine what would have happened if they'd identified you as a werewolf, Harry. You'd have been expelled from Hogwarts and you'd have been easy prey for him. With you out of his way, perhaps Voldemort had thought he'd still have a chance of an alliance with the werewolves and vampires."

"That makes sense," Sirius agreed, nodding.

"Were you cleared, lad?" Patrick asked. 

"Yep," Harry said. "They pulled it off."

"That's good news." Patrick gave Harry a warm smile. Ivan merely put his hand on Harry's thigh and gave it a soft squeeze. 

Familiar voices suddenly sounded through the hallway. "Sirius?" Dumbledore called out, and they heard Bill and Snape muttering in the background. 

"In here," Sirius called back. 

"Ah, there you are," Dumbledore said as he stepped inside the drawing room, closely followed by Bill and Snape. "And I'm glad to see you two are both doing fine," he added with a polite nod to Patrick and Ivan. 

"You heard?" Remus asked.

"A few of my contacts in Hogsmeade informed me of a Death Eater attack in the Hog's Head," Dumbledore said gravely. "Moody, Tonks and Kingsley are at the scene as we speak. I believe there were a few casualties." He looked at Ivan over the rim of his glasses. 

"Two of them," Ivan said with a shrug. "Cause of death is simple. I all but twisted their heads off their torsos. No one threatens what is mine and lives to tell it."

"There's more," Patrick said, pulling the dressing gown close around him. "Voldemort also attacked Ivan's usual hideout. A club and his apartment, which is...was...situated above it. They burned it to the ground."

Dumbledore frowned and then nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Not as sorry as Voldemort will be for messing with what is mine," Ivan growled. Patrick put a hand on his arm and rubbed it. 

"And that's not all," Bill said, sighing. "I just got off the fire with Charlie. There was an attack at the dragon reserve in Romania. Death Eaters tried to steal a few dragons."

"They what?" Sirius snapped, his eyes widening. 

"Why would they do that?" Harry wondered aloud, getting more and more confused. 

"Imagine what Voldemort could do with a few dragons under his control," Bill said. "But they didn't succeed. In fact, one of them got...well...eaten by a Hungarian Horntail. A nasty female, that one. They're hoping to identify him once she discards his remains the natural way."

Harry shuddered and glanced to his side at Ivan, who looked intrigued.

"So it's started then," Sirius whispered. "He's finally moving in to attack."

"I'm afraid it seems that way," Dumbledore said. "At least, Voldemort is now actively seeking new means to fight and trying to get rid of those who oppose him."

"He can have his war," Ivan said, staring at Dumbledore. "You have my alliance. My kin's alliance. We will fight on your side. No one attacks me and my own without repercussions." 

"We accept your alliance, Mr Storkavic," Dumbledore said. "Although I must say I wish we'd received it under better circumstances."

Ivan nodded and then looked at Bill. "I need a favour, Billy."

"What do you need?"

"I need someone to collect Duncan for me. Patrick is in no state to apparate and I want Duncan out of there quickly."

"Tell me where he is," Bill said. 

While Patrick gave Bill directions on how to get to the pub, Harry glanced between Remus and Sirius. With a small smile, Remus grabbed his hand and weaved their fingers together, but it did little to calm Harry's erratic heartbeat. So it seemed Voldemort had finally declared active war on their side. It was a moment Harry'd always known would come, but now that it was here, it was still a shock. 

"I'll be right back," Bill said, and then disapparated.   
Harr

Dumbledore sat down, folding his hands in his lap and looking thoughtful. Snape stood near the fireplace, arms crossed and a deep frown tugging on his brow. Then another shrill beeping sound filled the room and Patrick fished Ivan's mobile phone from the pocket of his dressing gown and handed it to Ivan, who took one look at the small display and gave it back to Patrick. 

"It's for you, love," Ivan said. Patrick nodded and put the phone to his ear. 

"It's Patrick...hey, Richard...I was afraid of that...they got Ivan's building as well...aye, You-Know-Who's mates...we're fine...I have no idea...thanks, mate, but we'll figure something out...I'll talk to you later."

"The bookstore?" Ivan asked when Patrick clicked the phone shut.

"Aye, they burned it down as well," Patrick said. Ivan growled in response. 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Remus offered. Harry just gave Patrick a grave look. 

"I bet they hoped you'd flee to either one of your homes if they didn't manage to kill you at the Hog's Head," Sirius said, narrowing his eyes. "You'd have apparated straight into an inferno."

"A clever move, indeed," Snape said. Dumbledore nodded his agreement. 

"He needs the alliance of Dark Creatures," Sirius said. "I'll bet my wand he hoped to gain the support of both your kin with you out of the way."

"Why does he need it?" Harry asked. 

"Because he doesn't have nearly the number of followers he had during the first war," Remus said, squeezing Harry's hand. 

"People know who and what he is these days," Sirius added. "They're not so keen to side with him this time. He needs to get followers of the non-human variety, if he wants to create a strong army."

"He's got Dementors," Harry offered. "And giants."

"Indeed, but the giants have yet to leave Russia," Dumbledore said. "They're not much use to him until they do, and our intelligence tells us that the giants aren't planning on joining Voldemort here in the near future."

Harry considered that, but before he could ask two more cracks sounded in the hallway, and a moment later Fred and George walked into the drawing room. Their usual grins were nowhere to be seen, however, and Harry didn't think he'd ever seen the twins look that serious before. 

"They got our store," Fred said, his voice tight.

"They set it on fire," George added quietly. 

"We were able to get out just before the flames reached our stock of Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs."

"It's gone now. It's all gone."

Harry was speechless. He felt as if the couch had dropped out from under him and all he could do was stare at the twins. 

"Bloody hell," Sirius sighed. 

"But why?" Harry finally managed to say. 

"It is the Dark Lord's way of stating his target," Snape said. "Which would be anyone who's on good terms with Dumbledore. And you were the perfect target to strike. Nice and public."

Fred pursed his lips but didn't say anything. George stared at Dumbledore, who nodded quietly. 

Another crack sounded, but this time right in front of them. Bill appeared, holding Duncan close to him. Duncan's blond hair looked dirty, his cheeks were smeared with soot and his Hawaiian shirt was singed. But that wasn't the worst part, Harry noticed. Duncan's bare arms were burned badly, but Duncan was still clutching what looked like stuffed pillowcases in his wounded hands. 

Ivan was on his feet at once and grabbed Duncan's shoulders, looking him over from head to toe. 

"I tried to get some of our stuff out," Duncan whispered, raising the pillowcases weakly. "But I didn't have time to get all of it."

"I don't care about those things," Ivan said through gritted teeth as he pulled Duncan into an embrace. "He's going to pay for this. For hurting my Childe. For threatening my Childe's life." Ivan bared his fangs. "I'm going to – "

"Ivan, shut it," Patrick said, and then sighed. "We've got more important things to worry about at the moment than what you'll do to that bastard."

"Such as?" Ivan hissed, glaring at Patrick, Duncan still clutched to his chest. 

"Such as deciding what we'll do," Patrick said. "Finding a place to stay."

Harry glanced at Sirius, who rolled his eyes. 

"You can stay here for the time being," Sirius said and then gestured vaguely towards Duncan. "All of you."

Patrick nodded and Ivan managed a smile. Harry looked at them, and he knew he should feel more excited about having three of his friends staying with them, but the evening's events had dampened his spirits. 

"I guess we'll go home, then," Fred said. 

"If you want to endanger your entire family, that's exactly what you should do," Snape said. George curved an eyebrow. "He's made you his targets," Snape continued with a rather satisfied sneer. "You got away. He will not be pleased."

"Fuck," George said. Harry glanced at Sirius again, who waved Harry's pleading look away. 

"You two can stay here as well," Sirius said, and then let out a tired sigh.

"Good," Dumbledore said, and rose from his seat. "I'll call an emergency Order meeting for tomorrow evening." Dumbledore left it with that and stepped out of the room, Snape on his heels. As Harry glanced across the room, at the five men who'd be staying with them from then on, he didn't have a clue what to say or do.


	20. Chapter 19

"Do you want me to get Mum and Dad on the fire for you?" Bill asked, placing his hands on the twins' shoulders. 

"We'd rather wait until tomorrow before we talk to them," Fred said. 

"Get a good night's sleep before having to explain everything," George added. 

"All right. Do you need anything?" Bill squeezed their shoulders, and the twins shook their heads in reply. "I'll see you tomorrow evening, then. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Bill gave the rest of them a small smile and disappeared through the door, leaving the twins standing close, looking rather lost. 

"You need to heal," Ivan said to Duncan, cupping Duncan's chin in his hand. "You need blood. Take some of mine."

"But," Duncan sputtered. "You were injured as well."

"Take it," Ivan growled, baring his throat. 

Harry glanced at Patrick, who gave him a smile and shrugged, so Harry turned his gaze back to the two vampires. Duncan let out a deep sigh, much like a child who doesn't want to obey his parent, and then he stood up on his toes and pressed his lips to Ivan's throat. 

"Fuck, Duncan, you should really learn how to sink your teeth into a throat without tearing it open," Ivan muttered, and then clenched his jaws. From what Harry could tell, Duncan drank a few mouthfuls of Ivan's blood and then pulled back, licking his lips and staring at the floor. 

"You'll need human blood soon, but this should do for now," Ivan said, and gave Duncan a half-smile as he ruffled Duncan's dirty hair.

Harry leaned back into the couch, glancing from the twins, who looked lost, to Ivan and Duncan, and then to Sirius. He still didn't know what to say or do, and the longer he tried to think of solutions, the more his head started to ache. His body was in no better shape, that soon after a transformation, and all Harry really wanted at that moment was crawl into bed with Remus and Sirius and forget about the world outside their bedroom for a while. 

"Anyone hungry?" Sirius asked. 

"Why, are you offering again?" Ivan replied with a smirk. Sirius gave Ivan a bored look and pushed himself up from his chair. 

"I made some soup earlier, for those interested," he said, and stopped in front of Harry and Remus, offering them both a hand. Harry accepted it and let Sirius pull him to his feet. Leaning on Remus, Harry followed Sirius out of the room down to the kitchen. 

"Do you two think you can eat some soup and toast?" Sirius asked as Harry and Remus sat down at the kitchen table. They both nodded in response, and Sirius went about heating the soup just as the rest joined them. 

"So what do we do now?" George asked. Harry felt relieved George had asked that question, since it had been on Harry's mind the entire time and he was anxious for an answer. 

"Nothing," Remus said. "We wait until tomorrow's Order meeting to make any decisions."

Harry released a tired sigh. Although he really did not feel like going to war – Merlin knew that at that moment he wasn't even feeling up to climbing the stairs by himself – he did want things to end. He frowned, running the things that had been said that evening through in his mind. 

"If Voldemort doesn't have a strong army at the moment," Harry said after a few moments of silence, "why don't we attack him first?"

"That's a good question, lad," Patrick said, nodding. 

Sirius, who was stirring a large pan of soup, turned his back to the stove and gave Harry a calculated look. "Why are you so bloody eager to fight all of a sudden?"

Shrugging, Harry glanced down at the table top. "I'm not eager. I just want things to end. And it seems the longer we wait, the more chance we give Voldemort to form a strong army."

"Puppy has got a point," Ivan said, leaning back in his chair. 

"Then I suggest we bring this up during tomorrow's meeting," Remus said. Harry nodded and then leaned back when Sirius levitated the pan, several bowls and a handful of spoons to the table. 

Ivan pushed his chair back and got up. "You all enjoy your meal. I'm off to get Duncan and myself a little snack."

"You're not going out, love," Patrick said, turning in his seat and glaring up at Ivan. 

"Excuse me?" Ivan said, cocking his head. "I'm going to use your ingenious way of travelling by fire and look up some contacts in Soho. I don't need my club to get fed."

"Ivan, what part of 'there are wizards out there trying to get us killed' didn't you understand?"

Ivan narrowed his eyes at Patrick. "No magic can kill me."

Snorting, Patrick shook his head. "No, but they can throw curses at you until you pass out. And then nothing will stop them from driving a stake through your heart or setting you on fire."

"What are you saying, Patrick? That I'm stuck in this house? I think not."

"I think so, love," Patrick said. "You're not going anywhere."

Harry watched the heated glares between Ivan and Patrick and wondered if Ivan would accept Patrick ordering him to stay inside. Ivan didn't strike Harry as the type to accept orders. But much to Harry's surprise, Ivan's dark gaze softened and he glanced down. 

"Fine. Have it your way," Ivan muttered. He turned on his feet and stalked out of the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Patrick sighed and picked up his spoon. Beside him, Sirius frowned for a moment and then pushed himself up from his chair. 

"Just let him sulk for a moment, Black," Patrick said, waving at the closed door. But Sirius ignored him and left the kitchen. 

"Sirius has experience in being locked up," Remus said by way of explanation. Harry just stared at the door, curious and worried about what was happening on the other side of it. "Eat something," Remus told him softly, and Harry finally looked down at his bowl of soup, not feeling hungry in the slightest. 

"You all right, Harry?" Fred asked around a mouthful of toast. "You don't look so good."

"Dude, wolves always look like that after the full moon," Duncan said.

The only sound that followed was the palm of Patrick's hand slapping the back of Duncan's head. 

Fred glanced at George, then at Harry and finally looked at Remus. George only stared at Harry. 

"Well, since you will be living here from now on, I suppose you should know the truth," Remus said, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. "Yes, Harry is a werewolf. Yes, I infected him. Yes, it was an accident. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

"Yep," Fred said. 

"Completely," George added. 

"Dude, I had no idea they didn't know," Duncan said with an apologetic smile. Harry shrugged in response. He trusted Fred and George and it didn't bother him that much that they knew about his secret.

"So that's why you're so chummy with him," Fred said thoughtfully, nodding in Patrick's direction. 

"Um...I suppose," Harry said. "He's my...well...grandfather. Sort of."

Patrick choked on his soup and Remus tried not to laugh. 

"Now there's a way of making me feel old, lad," Patrick said. Harry grinned at him in response. 

"Ah, so Patrick's Remus' daddy," George said with a smirk. 

"In more ways than one," Remus said vaguely, and went back to eating his soup.

"I think we'll have a splendid time living here," Fred said, winking at Harry. 

"You can't tell anyone, though," Harry said in a weak attempt to change the subject. "Not everyone in the Order knows."

"Don't worry, mate," George said. "Our lips are sealed."

"Yeah. Besides, if Mum finds out she'll skin Remus alive and use his hide as a rug for the living room," Fred added helpfully.

Duncan's eyes widened.

"Maybe not literally," George said. 

"But whatever she'll do to Remus, it will be painful." Fred gave Remus a grave look.

"That's why we would appreciate your discretion," Remus said. 

The kitchen door swung open and in walked Ivan, looking perfectly at ease, followed by Sirius, who sported a blush. Harry narrowed his eyes and wondered what had happened between those two. He got the answer when he spotted two telltale wounds on Sirius' throat; they were the same marks Harry sported on his own throat. 

"Don't worry, puppy," Ivan said with a lewd smile. "Dogboy here was kind enough to let me have a taste so I would feel better."

Harry said nothing and tried to get the surge of bitter jealousy that raged through him under control. For some reason, he hated the idea of Sirius and Ivan off by themselves sharing blood. He glanced at Remus, but much to his chagrin he saw that Remus looked comfortable and not jealous at all. 

"Cheer up, puppy," Ivan said, sinking down in a chair beside Patrick. 

Harry huffed and set to eating his soup with a frustrated feeling tying up his stomach. 

"I was hoping the redsies wouldn't mind letting Duncan have a free meal. He needs mortal blood to heal," Ivan said. 

George curved an eyebrow. "You mean let him drink our blood?"

Nodding, Ivan gave the twins a charming smile. "He just needs a few mouthfuls to heal those nasty burns."

Fred looked intrigued, and after he shared a silent glance with George they both nodded. 

"Sure," George said.

"It will be our pleasure," Fred said. 

"I wouldn't count on that," Ivan muttered, and then gave Duncan a stern look. "Be gentle, understand?"

Duncan nodded wordlessly, and Harry was sure he saw Duncan's lower lip trembling with nervousness. 

"You might want to take this upstairs," Sirius said, rubbing across the wounds on his throat. More bitter surges filled Harry's stomach at the sight of it. "You can use your old room on the second floor."

"All right." Fred got up. 

"Let's go, then." George gave Duncan an encouraging smile, but all Duncan did was stare at the floor timidly. 

"Have fun," Ivan said, waving goodbye as they disappeared through the door. 

"Will those two boys be all right with Duncan?" Patrick asked after the door clicked shut. 

"I'm more worried about Duncan," Harry said, having seen the mischievous gleam in the twins' eyes. 

Sirius snickered and shared an amused glance with Ivan, which made Harry's skin crawl. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his thigh, squeezing it. Remus' hand, and Harry gave Remus a small smile in return. 

They finished their supper while making small talk, mostly about Duncan and the twins and who would do the most damage to whom. No one mentioned the impending war or Voldemort, but Harry was sure it was on everyone's mind. 

"Let's get some rest," Remus said after Sirius had cleared away the empty bowls. 

"You two can use that guestroom you stayed in last time," Sirius said with a nod to Patrick and Ivan. 

"Thanks, mate," Patrick said. He got up slowly, his back stiff and his face screwed up in agony. Ivan grabbed his arm and supported him as they walked to the door. 

"Nighty night, puppy," Ivan said over his shoulder. "Sweet dreams, dogboy."

As soon as the door fell shut behind them, Harry turned to glare at Sirius. 

"What?" Sirius asked, confused. 

"What did you do with him?" Harry growled. 

"What?" Sirius said again, indignant this time. "I gave the bloke a snack. You told me to give him my blood."

"When he was hurt!" Harry yelled. "I didn't tell you to sneak off with him."

"I didn't sneak off with him!" Sirius yelled back. "We had a chat. The stiff was hungry. I offered him food, like a good host, since he's staying in my house!"

"Harry," Remus said, his voice a whisper. "Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not upset! 

"You could have fooled me!"

"Sirius, please, calm down." Remus released a sigh. 

"I just don't like it that you did things with him," Harry muttered, unsure why he was feeling that jealous. He hadn't felt that way when Sirius had given Ivan his blood the first time and he'd been watching. 

"Oh, you're one to talk," Sirius said with a huff. "I remember you wanking while you watched them shag!"

"That was different!"

"That was worse! I gave the stiff food. You got off on him."

"Oh, and you didn't?" Harry snarled. 

"Both of you, shut up," Remus snapped suddenly, and then rubbed his temples. Harry closed his mouth and glared at Sirius. 

"Harry, I think your wolf is giving you these thoughts," Remus said. Harry looked away from Sirius to stare at Remus with a frown. "You're just being territorial," Remus added. 

"Perhaps," Harry whispered and shrugged. "I just don't like the idea of Sirius doing things with Ivan when I'm not there."

"Territorial, definitely," Sirius said, but there was amusement in his voice this time. Harry glanced up at him, unsure, and Sirius rounded the table to grab Harry into a hug. 

"I promise I won't go sneaking off with the stiff again. Happy now?" Sirius said, pressing kisses on Harry's face. 

"Yeah," Harry sighed, and then closed his eyes when Remus embraced him as well. 

"I assume a shag is out of the question?" Sirius asked after he let go of Harry. Both Harry and Remus answered him with a glare. "Hey, can't blame a bloke for trying," Sirius said with a grin, and pulled Harry up to his feet. 

Harry let him, wincing as his sore muscles were stretched. "Sleep now. We can have a shag tomorrow."

"Sounds perfect," Remus said and grabbed Sirius' shoulder for support as they left the kitchen.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry woke from a restless night of sleep. He'd been haunted by dreams of Moony, Padfoot and Blue stuck in a burning house while he was unable to apparate or get help and had to watch his two lovers die in the unforgiving flames that swallowed them whole.

Rubbing his eyes, Harry glanced at the small clock on the bedside table and saw it was only six in the morning. His body could use more rest, but his mind refused to settle down after having been plagued by horrible images the whole night. So Harry sat up and tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. 

"Harry?" Remus' soft voice called from beside him. 

"Yeah?"

"Are you up already? Go back to sleep." Remus wormed his arm around Harry's waist, intent on pulling him back down to the mattress. 

"No." Harry dislodged Remus' arm and offered him a small smile. "I'm thirsty. I think I'll go down and get some tea."

"Do you want me to join you?" Remus asked, his eyes hooded and his face still slack with sleep. 

"No, I'm okay." Harry leaned down, gave Remus a kiss and then pushed himself up from the bed. Remus smiled in return and slid closer to Sirius, who still appeared fast asleep with his face half-buried in his pillow. 

Harry slid on his dressing gown, stepped into his slippers and made his way to the door with careful steps. His entire body still ached, a painful reminder he hadn't taken a special bath yesterday, and Harry decided to rectify that after he'd had a cup of tea. He hadn't been lying to Remus. He was quite thirsty. 

The trip down to the kitchen was agonizing and slow, and when Harry finally entered the sparsely-lit room, he set a fire to the hearth with a flick of his wand and then leaned on the counter to catch his breath before he filled the kettle with water.

"Morning, Harry," came a sudden voice from the doorway. 

Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw Fred smiling at him. 

"Morning," he replied. "Tea?"

"Sure, thanks." Fred pulled a chair back and sat down with a tired sigh. "You're up rather early."

"I could say the same for you," Harry said as he tapped the kettle with his wand to boil the water. 

"I suppose you could," Fred said, grinning. "I've always been an early riser."

"As opposed to George?" Harry asked, filling two mugs with steaming water. He carried them to the table and sat down facing Fred. 

"Thanks," Fred said, accepting the mug Harry offered him with a grateful smile. "Yeah, as opposed to George. They're still asleep." 

Harry stared at Fred for a moment. "They?" he asked, curving a curious eyebrow. 

The smallest of blushes crept up Fred's cheeks. "They," he said, and regarded Harry for a moment. "George and Duncan."

"Ah." Harry blew some air over the rim of his mug before taking a careful sip. "I assume you were able to donate some blood to Duncan last night, then."

"Among other things," Fred said, snickering. "He's a nice bloke. We had fun."

"You, both of you, had fun?"

"Yep."

"Ah." Harry frowned, trying to take in the idea that Fred and George had both shagged Duncan. 

"But then you know all about threesomes, don't you?" Fred countered with a tilt of his head. 

Now it was Harry who blushed. "Let me guess. Duncan told you."

"He sure did."

Harry made a mental note to have a serious talk with Duncan about things he shouldn't tell people. "Yeah, well," he sighed, lowering his mug to the tabletop. "It sort of happened last summer. We've been together ever since."

"I have no problems with that," Fred said and then narrowed his eyes as he stared at Harry for a moment. "I just hope you won't have a problem with me and George doing certain things together."

Taking a deep breath, Harry considered that. While he knew most people would be revolted by the idea of two brothers, two twin brothers, doing such things together, it didn't bother him all that much. Then again, Harry had spent the better part of the summer letting himself be fucked by a werewolf, so he really had no room to talk, he realized. 

"I have no problem with what you do with George," Harry said after a moment, and offered Fred a smile. "Just be careful with what you do with Duncan, I suppose."

"How so?" Fred asked with a frown. 

"Ivan," Harry said, shrugging. "He seems very protective of Duncan and trust me, you don't want to piss Ivan off."

Fred chuckled. "Don't worry. We have no intention of hurting the kid."

"The kid," Harry repeated. "You do realize he's about a century and a half older than you are, don't you?"

"He doesn't act like it," Fred said, laughing.

Harry chuckled, looked up at Fred and noticed the two raw marks on either side of his throat. He was unwittingly reminded of the row he'd had with Sirius the previous night and without thinking, he rubbed the small scar on his own throat. 

"Ivan?" Fred asked, nodding at Harry's mark. 

"Hm?" Harry blinked away the miserable memories of the previous night. "Yeah, Ivan bit me once. But it wasn't much fun. I snapped his control with magic."

"Ah." Fred sipped his tea and then looked over Harry's shoulder at the other end of the kitchen. "Whose are those?"

Harry turned in his seat and saw five large trunks stacked near the backdoor. "I have no idea."

"Let's find out, then." Fred slid out of his seat and had opened the first trunk before Harry could tell him it might not be a good idea. "Leather trousers," Fred said with a frown, holding up a dark brown pair. 

Harry laughed. "I think those are Ivan's and Patrick's. Moody must have delivered them here during the night."

"He sure loves leather, doesn't he?" Fred mused, picking up another pair of leather trousers. 

"I would, too, if I had an arse like his," Harry mumbled, and then snorted in his tea when Fred burst into laughter. 

Fred snapped the trunk shut and joined Harry at the table again. 

"I'm really sorry about your shop," Harry offered. 

Fred waved his comment away. "We have enough money to rebuild it once the war ends. Until that time, we'll just spend our days inventing new merchandise, I suppose."

"If the war ever ends," Harry muttered.

"We'll hear about the Order's plans tonight," Fred said with a shrug. Harry nodded but he couldn't help feeling restless. He wanted to do something, instead of spending his time in a gloomy house, drinking tea.

Harry finished his mug and pushed himself up with a sigh. "I'm going to get dressed. See you later."

"See you, Harry," Fred said and poured himself another cup of tea. 

Holding onto the wall for support, Harry walked up the two flights of stairs and once inside the bathroom, he turned on the taps and ran a steaming bath. He added a generous dose of the special bath-oil and lowered himself in the hot water with a satisfied sigh.

After he'd soaked for at least half an hour, he felt much better. His body ached less and his muscles felt relaxed. Harry drained the tub and got up, pulling a large towel around himself while he shuffled to the sink. 

He dried his hair and stared at his reflection while he swiped the towel across the rest of his body. The scars he'd got during the Christmas holidays were faded now, only small, pink lines crisscrossing his body. But they were still there, and after considering them for a moment, Harry realized he didn't mind them all that much. 

"Checking out the goods, puppy?"

Harry gasped in surprise and turned on his feet. Ivan stood behind him, a wide grin the only thing he was wearing. Harry looked in the mirror again and only saw his own reflection. He frowned, and then realized that vampires didn't have a reflection. 

"You're not quite awake yet, are you?" Ivan asked, amused. 

"I'm getting there," Harry mumbled, wrapping his towel around his waist. "Is there something you want?"

"Besides more sex?" Ivan asked, tilting his head and darting his tongue out to lick his bottom lip. "Actually, I'd love to drain my pipes. You're welcome to watch, puppy." And with that, Ivan stepped closer to the toilet. 

"You pee?" Harry asked, confused. 

"Of course I pee," Ivan said, giving Harry a smile over his shoulder. "Blood consists of eighty percent of water. It has to go somewhere."

Harry quickly turned his back to Ivan and he heard the telltale sound of someone relieving himself. "Just so you know, the twins shagged Duncan last night."

"Lucky Duncan," Ivan said, flushing the toilet. He rinsed his hands in the sink while he looked at Harry. "Is there a reason you're sharing that with me?"

Harry shrugged, fumbling with the corner of his towel. "Just so you won't get angry with the twins or something, for touching what is yours."

Snorting, Ivan slid his arm around Harry's shoulder. "I only object to people touching what is mine if they're trying to hurt what is mine. Duncan can shag whomever he likes. I promise I won't throw a hissy fit."

Harry couldn't help but smile at the teasing hint to Ivan's voice. "Okay," he mumbled. 

"Are you still angry with me for having a taste of your dog last night?"

Narrowing his eyes, Harry looked up at Ivan. "No, not really. I just didn't like it that you two sneaked off."

Rolling his eyes, Ivan pulled Harry closer and then nuzzled Harry's throat, his lips brushing over the mark he'd left there. "Good," Ivan whispered, while a shiver ran down Harry's spine. "Because we really need to discuss the matter of donating blood."

"Huh?" Harry managed, feeling almost hypnotized by Ivan's soft voice and the barest touch of fangs to his skin. 

"I'm stuck here, but I do need to feed," Ivan said, gave a small lick to Harry's throat and then pulled back, looking down at Harry with a cocky smile. "I'll be needing a few donations from you and your two fuckbuddies every week."

"Oh." Harry leaned closer to Ivan again without realizing what he was doing. 

"Am I interrupting something?" came a voice from the doorway. 

Harry jumped back, bumping his hip to the sink. Patrick leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed and an amused smile tugging on his lips. 

"No," Harry mumbled, not looking at either Ivan or Patrick. "I was just leaving."

"See you at breakfast, puppy," Ivan said. Harry ignored him and brushed past Patrick. Only when he stood in front of his own bedroom door did he turn to look at Patrick. 

"Your clothes are downstairs," he said, and slid inside his bedroom without waiting for a reply, closing the door behind him with a soft click. 

"Morning, Harry," Sirius said, stretching his arms above his head while he smiled at Harry from the bed. 

"Did you know vampires pee?" Harry blurted out the first thing on his mind, confused about his encounter with Ivan. 

"You got that from watching a vampire pee?" Sirius asked, pointing a finger at Harry's lower body. Harry glanced down and noticed that his towel was tented by an erection. He hadn't even felt his cock harden. 

"No," he said. "That just...happened."

"Come here and we'll take care of that for you," Remus whispered as Sirius' smile morphed into a feral grin. 

Harry felt a flutter of arousal heat his stomach and he lowered himself to the bed, shedding his towel along the way. Sirius kicked the sheets back, revealing his boxers which were stretched by his own erection, and Harry stared at it with a hungry gaze. 

"Are you up for a bit of fun?" Sirius whispered, trailing the tips of his fingers down Harry's arm, leaving gooseflesh in their path. 

"Yeah," Harry sighed, glancing at Remus over his shoulder. Remus sat up, pulled his pyjama shirt off and then pressed his warm chest against Harry's naked back. 

"I'd love to feel your mouth around my cock, Harry," Remus said, and nibbled on Harry's shoulder, drawing a moan. 

"And I wouldn't mind having a taste of this," Sirius said with a grin, tracing his fingers down to Harry's aching prick. 

"What are we waiting for?" Remus pushed Harry back against the crumpled sheets. Harry shifted closer until he stared at Remus' leaking cock and he felt Sirius' breath on his own cockhead. He glanced up and noticed Sirius had positioned himself so Remus had no problem sucking Sirius' prick into his mouth. 

"God," Harry moaned, and then licked the tip of Remus' cock before he wrapped his lips around it, letting the salty taste of Remus' pre-come linger on his tongue. He bucked his hips up and groaned when Sirius swallowed him to the base. 

What followed was a tantalizing mix of hard, throbbing flesh in his mouth and the feeling of an expert tongue coaxing him to his climax. Harry sucked as hard as he could, teasing Remus' sac with trembling fingers while Sirius seemed intent on drawing Harry's orgasm out of him as fast as he could. 

The only sounds in the room were muffled moans and their lips moving across hard flesh in slick, wet vibrations. Harry came close to finding his release a few times, but Sirius squeezed the base of his cock each time, teasing him to greater heights until Harry started begging around Remus' prick, his pleas cut off by Remus' cock sliding deeper and deeper into his mouth. 

And when he finally came, Harry thought that incredible feeling might never end. Sirius swallowed and swallowed, milking his prick and massaging his sac until Harry felt like a boneless heap of aching flesh. Then Remus found his release, spurting his seed deep down Harry's throat and Harry sucked harder and loved every last drop he tasted. 

Releasing Remus' spent cock, Harry rolled onto his back and gasped for air. 

"Good?" Sirius asked, wiping his mouth as he crawled up Harry's body. 

"Perfect," Harry replied, managing a half-grin. 

Sirius kissed him long and deep, and when he pulled back, Remus leaned down and continued with slow sweeps of his lips and sharp thrusts of his tongue. 

Harry smiled at them both, feeling relaxed and safe, his mind not busy with thoughts about a possible war for the first time that morning. But it didn't last. The moment Remus suggested they should get up, Harry was back to pondering the upcoming Order meeting and their chances in the war. 

Deep in thought, Harry followed Sirius and Remus to the bathroom to brush his teeth and he didn't look up until he bumped against Remus' back. 

Patrick had Ivan pinned to the shower wall, pounding into him. Harry blinked and couldn't look away from all that naked, wet skin, nor could he ignore the grunts and moans. 

Sirius cleared his throat and only then did Patrick still his hips. Ivan merely snarled at him not to stop, ignoring the three of them. 

"I think we need a bathroom schedule," Remus said, an amused note to his voice. Harry was still staring when Remus turned him around and led him back to their bedroom. 

"We'll be done in a minute," Patrick called after them, slightly out of breath. 

"Take your time," Sirius called back, and then snickered at Harry and Remus once they were back inside their bedroom. 

"Dude, are they at it again?" came an affronted voice from the hallway. "I could, like, really use a shower."

Harry buried his face in his hands to hide his snorts of laughter. 

"I think it's also time we clean out that other bathroom," Remus said, lowering himself to the bed. Harry sat down beside him, still laughing. 

Suddenly, the door banged open and Harry glanced up at Ivan, who gave them a very satisfied smile, his long hair dripping wet and plastered around his face. 

"Shower's free," Ivan said, and disappeared. 

"It's our turn now," Fred's voice rang through the hallway, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps and a door slamming shut.

"We have all day," Sirius offered. "The Order's not going to show up until tonight."

"We'll need it, by the looks of it," Remus said, and Harry could only nod his agreement. 

Just when Harry wanted to fall back on the bed to wait for his turn in the bathroom, a loud shriek sounded downstairs. Followed by another loud shriek, and another, and then a loud, irritated voice. 

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Mum. I'm just getting some clothes."

Harry glanced at Remus while Sirius opened the door so they could get a good earful of what was going on downstairs. 

"Where are my sons?" Mrs Weasley sounded very angry. 

"They're upstairs in the shower," Ivan answered, and then they heard footsteps, hurried footsteps on the stairs. 

Harry panicked. He was naked and stuck with Sirius and Remus, also naked, in a bedroom with only one bed. And Mrs Weasley was about to discover them. He grabbed his towel and made a mad dash for the hallway, thinking he'd hide out in an empty bedroom. 

But at the same moment, the bathroom door burst open and a very wet and naked Fred and George appeared, looking panicked as well. 

"That's Mum," Fred said through gritted teeth.

"Hide!" George snapped, grabbing his twin by the arm and dragging him to their bedroom. 

Harry stood frozen when Duncan emerged from the bathroom, also wet and naked and looking confused. He stood beside Harry, but when he saw Mrs Weasley take the last few steps of the stairs, he backed away and positioned himself behind Harry. 

"Where are my sons?" Mrs Weasley demanded, her face flushed. Mr Weasley was close behind her, looking far more relaxed than his wife, and Ivan followed them, still naked, with a bunch of clothes in his arms. 

Swallowing, Harry raised his towel in front of his chest. "I'm not sure," he muttered. 

"Harry, dear," Mrs Weasley started, but then she spotted Duncan. "Who's he? Is he undressed as well? Why are you all undressed?"

"Um..." said Harry, glancing over his shoulder at Duncan, who stared at Mrs Weasley as if she were an enraged dragon. "He's with me. This is Duncan. A friend of Ivan's."

Mrs Weasley clapped her hands over her mouth, looking shocked. "Is he...one of them?"

"Duncan is my Childe," Ivan said, leaning against the wall beside his bedroom, regarding Mrs Weasley with a rather cold glare. 

To make the chaos complete, Patrick, Sirius and Remus picked that moment to appear from their respective bedrooms, Patrick without any clothes on and Sirius and Remus only wearing boxers. 

"Molly," Remus said in his usual mild tone, "why don't you wait for us downstairs so we can all get dressed before we explain what happened."

"I know what happened," Mrs Weasley shrieked. "It was in the Prophet this morning. Albus said we could find our boys here. Where are they?"

"Mum!"

"What an unexpected pleasure!"

The twins stepped out of their bedroom – dressed, thank god, Harry thought – and gave their mother a charming smile each. 

"Fred! George! Thank Merlin you're all right." Mrs Weasley grabbed her sons in a tight embrace before she took her time to look them over. "I was so worried about you two. What happened? Were you hurt?"

"We're fine, Mum."

"It's just safer for the whole family for us to stay here."

Mrs Weasley fussed with Fred's hair and with the collar of George's robes for a while, but then suddenly her hands stilled and her eyes narrowed. 

"What is that?" she asked, pulling George's collar down. 

"Nothing. A scratch," George said. But Mrs Weasley ignored him and pulled on Fred's collar. When she noticed the wounds on his throat, she whipped around on her feet and glared at Ivan. 

"You! What have you done to my sons?"

"Wasn't me," Ivan said, rolling his eyes. Mrs Weasley, however, didn't appear to believe him, because she grabbed her wand and pointed it at Ivan. 

Growling, Ivan dropped the clothes in his arms and bared his fangs, and Patrick pulled him inside their bedroom just in time to keep Ivan from attacking Mrs Weasley. 

"Mum, stop it!"

"He didn't hurt us."

Fred pointed at Duncan. "This poor boy was badly injured after a Death Eater attack."

"He needed blood to heal those nasty burns on his arms," George added. 

"So we offered him some."

"You always taught us to help others if we could."

Fred and George stared at their mother expectantly while Duncan seemed to shrink behind Harry at the sudden attention.

Mrs Weasley swallowed and lowered her wand. "Well," she started and then stayed quiet, glancing at Mr Weasley. 

"Why don't I make us a cup of tea downstairs," Mr Weasley offered, patting his wife's arm. "Boys, please join us. We'd like to hear what happened."

"Of course, Dad," Fred said, winking at Harry. 

"It was nothing, really," George chimed in, following his parents down the stairs. The moment they disappeared out of sight, Harry glanced at Sirius. 

"You said something about immigrating to Canada the other day," he said, suddenly feeling very tired. "How about we do that?"

Sirius snickered and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders. 

"Jamaica is much better this time of year," Ivan called from inside his bedroom. Harry shook his head and leaned against Sirius, glancing at Duncan. 

"Dude, she's scary," Duncan said. 

"Tell me about it," Harry muttered, and then followed Sirius and Remus to the bathroom to finally brush his teeth.

*~*~*~*~*

The Order members arrived around seven that evening, just after they'd all finished their supper. Harry seated himself between Sirius and Remus while everyone claimed a chair, talking about the disturbing events from the previous day.

Duncan sat down beside Ivan, looking at the assembled wizards and witches with wide eyes. 

"Who is he?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes at Duncan. 

"My Childe," Ivan said, glaring right back at Snape. "He stays."

Snape looked at Dumbledore, but the headmaster merely smiled and nodded before he cleared his throat. 

"Please, everyone, sit down, so we may begin this meeting."

While Dumbledore gave a brief recount of all that had happened, Harry stared at nothing in particular, impatient to get to the point. He'd felt restless the entire day. Mr and Mrs Weasley had left after breakfast, having made sure their boys were safe, and Harry had spent most of the day lazing about, too occupied with the upcoming meeting to concentrate on anything constructive. 

"Now we must decide how to respond to Voldemort's actions," Dumbledore finished his short speech.

"We attack him," Harry said before anyone else could speak. 

"Don't be foolish," Moody grunted. 

"Potter, keep out of this," Snape snarled. 

But Harry ignored them both and stared at Dumbledore with narrowed eyes. "He's without a strong army at the moment. If we attack him now, we have a good chance of defeating him."

"If we attack him now," Dumbledore said with a patient smile, "We might defeat his army. I'm not sure, however, if we'll be able to defeat Voldemort himself."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused. 

"He survived the Killing Curse once before," Moody muttered, his magical eye staring straight at Harry. "As you well know."

Harry considered that. He hadn't actually thought about how they should kill Voldemort. But that hardly seemed to matter. 

"If we defeat his army, at least he'll have less chance to defeat us," Harry said, thinking it made perfect sense. 

Dumbledore nodded, silencing Snape with a raised finger before Snape was able to respond. "But if we defeat his army now and leave Voldemort alive, there will be no telling what Voldemort may do next. At the moment, we have enough knowledge of Voldemort's plans to know what his next steps will be."

"Just like you knew he would attack Ivan and Patrick, and the twins," Harry said, not looking away from Dumbledore's sharp gaze. 

"Harry, it isn't very effective to go after Voldemort without knowing how to kill him. For all we know, he is immortal," Kingsley said, his voice deep and calm. 

"They are immortal," Harry snapped, pointing at Ivan and Duncan across the table. "And they can be killed."

"And I'm positive Voldemort can be killed as well," Dumbledore said. "But we must learn how before we move in to attack him."

Harry sagged back in his chair, releasing a tired sigh. "I'm sure he'll die if you cut off his head," he muttered. 

"But you'll never get close enough to him to do that," Snape said, glaring at Harry. "I think you underestimate the Dark Lord, Potter. He'll curse any of us into pieces before he'll let someone close enough to cause him physical harm."

"Then what are we doing sitting around here?" Harry asked. "We should all be trying to find a way to kill him."

"You have been doing that, Harry," Dumbledore said. 

"Huh?"

"One of Voldemort's strengths is also one of his weaknesses, as you proved during your fifth year, when you were able to access Voldemort's mind."

Harry worried his lip, not sure what Dumbledore was getting at. 

"And now you are learning Legilimency. You're learning to enter people's mindsHarr."

"You mean I might be able to defeat Voldemort through our connection somehow?" Harry asked softly. 

"That is indeed what I believe, Harry."

Harry glanced down, taking in what Dumbledore had said. He'd known that learning Legilimency was important, but he'd never really understood why. And there it was, finally. Dumbledore believed Harry could defeat Voldemort with it. Somehow. 

"I think it is time you try to open your connection to Voldemort," Dumbledore said. Sirius made a protesting sound, but Dumbledore waved it away. "Take small steps, Harry. Concentrate on your connection and see how far you can get. But, please, never attempt this alone. I'm sure Sirius and Remus won't mind assisting you."

"We don't mind," Remus said before Sirius could say something. 

Harry kept staring at the tabletop, barely hearing Dumbledore discuss further actions that had to be taken to ensure everyone's safety. 

Just when all he wanted was to get rid of Voldemort any way he could, Dumbledore ordered him to seek him out through their connection. Harry was convinced his life couldn't possibly get any worse. 

During the rest of the meeting, Harry kept quiet, and when it ended and people left, Harry excused himself and went to bed. Without Sirius and Remus. Sirius seemed worried, but Remus gave Harry a smile and a kiss and wished him a good night. 

Harry lay awake for a long time, afraid of what he might see once he closed his eyes.

*~*~*~*~*

Eventually, he must have fallen asleep, because the next morning Harry woke with a start. He sat up and glanced around the room, for some reason convinced he'd find Voldemort there, watching him. But the room was empty, save for Sirius and Remus sleeping beside him.

Releasing a relieved breath, Harry got up, put on his dressing gown and his slippers and walked down to the kitchen, the house empty and quiet around him. 

While he made a cup of tea, he thought he had to do something. He just didn't have an idea what. And sipping his mug, Harry realized he really didn't know all that much about the whole situation. 

How was he supposed to confront Voldemort, defeat Voldemort, while he was clueless?

Cradling his steaming mug, his muscles still stiff and painful, Harry climbed the stairs and then stood in the hallway for a moment, his eyes fixed on a specific door he hadn't entered more than three times since he'd first set foot in the house during his fifth year. 

The library. 

But if he wanted to learn more about himself, about Voldemort, about their connection, that was the place to search for knowledge, Harry reasoned, and he pushed the door open. 

The library smelled like old parchment and stale leather, and Harry sniffed a few times while he set a fire to the fireplace. The dark room flared to life with golden light and dancing shadows. Harry looked around at the countless books and then spotted the large table in the middle, covered with books and sheets of parchment. 

Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Harry sat down and looked over the notes. He recognized Remus' handwriting on most of them, and a few sheets sported Sirius' angular scrawl. 

They must have researched things here, Harry thought, and grabbed a blank sheet of parchment. He reached for a quill and vial of ink and then bit his lip. 

On one end of the parchment he wrote 'Harry,' on the other end 'Voldemort,' and then drew a line between the names. Underneath it he wrote 'connection' and then finished with a big question mark. 

Sighing, Harry stared at the parchment. 

"Morning, Harry."

Remus stood in the doorway, holding a mug and giving Harry a warm smile. 

"Morning," Harry replied. 

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked, walking to the table to stand behind Harry. 

"Confused, mostly," Harry said, nodding at the parchment in front of him. 

Remus chuckled. "You know more than what you've written down," he said, seating himself beside Harry. 

"I do?" Harry wondered. 

"Of course. How did you form a connection with him?"

Harry frowned. "The Killing Curse," he said, and Remus nodded. Harry scratched out the question mark and wrote 'Killing Curse' under the line that connected his name with Voldemort's.

"I was reading up on curse scars," Remus said, pulling a thick book closer. "Do you want to take a look at it?"

"Sure," Harry said, straightened in his seat and flipped the book open. He kept his quill at the ready to take notes and concentrated on the first chapter, an introduction to curses. 

After an hour Sirius joined them, looking ruffled and sleepy. He put a pot of tea and a dish filled with sandwiches down on the table, gave Harry a brief kiss and then sagged in a chair, staring at a book. Not long after, Patrick, Ivan and Duncan also entered the library. 

"What are we looking for, exactly?" Patrick asked, pouring himself a cup of tea. 

"Anything that can tell us how Voldemort might have survived the Killing Curse," Remus said. "Among other things."

"And ways he could have achieved immortality," Sirius added with a yawn. 

Ivan leaned his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand and stared at the pile of books in front of him. "Joy," he sighed, and grabbed the first book he could reach. Patrick and Duncan followed his example, and after a few moments everyone was engrossed in their reading. 

"Dude, what's a phoenix?" Duncan asked after some time. 

"Huh?" Harry looked up from his book and slid his glasses off to rub his eyes. 

"It says here that a phoenix's song can, like, wake the dead," Duncan said, tapping a page in his book. 

"A phoenix is a bird," Harry said, frowning. "They can wake the dead?"

"Wait, phoenixes really exist?" Ivan asked, looking awake for the first time that morning. 

"You saw one in Dumbledore's office," Remus said, smiling. 

"That big yellow chicken?" Ivan said, looking at Remus as if he was mad. 

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, that chicken is called Fawkes and he's a phoenix." Then he looked at Duncan again. "Can I see that?"

"Sure, dude." Duncan slid the book to Harry, who scanned the page. 

"Well, according to this book, phoenixes can wake the dead with their song," Harry said and scribbled that down on his sheet of parchment. "Maybe Voldemort did something with a phoenix. We do both have phoenix feathers in the cores of our wands."

"Could be," Sirius said. "See if you can find more on that."

"Yeah." Harry closed the book Duncan had given him and looked at the cover. 'Magical Beasts and Their Properties in Necromancy.' He flipped it open again; it surely seemed more interesting than the dull text on the history of curses. 

Silence returned to the library, and Harry read about magical creatures he'd never heard of and thought he was wasting his time until he reached a chapter on unicorns. There was something about unicorns, Harry thought, but he couldn't remember what. He read the text, which described the unicorn's physique and then went on about the unique properties of their blood. 

"Unicorns," Harry said, snapping his gaze up. 

"What was that, Harry?" Remus asked, tilting his head. 

"Unicorns," he said again and tried to remember with all his might how he knew that. "Firenze!" he suddenly added. "In my first year, out in the Forbidden Forest, Firenze said something about unicorn blood. And Voldemort had been drinking unicorn blood!"

Everyone at the table stared at Harry, Ivan and Duncan looking confused, but Sirius, Remus and Patrick seemed to understand him a bit better. 

"Voldemort drank unicorn blood?" Sirius asked, giving Harry a searching look. 

"Yes. When he possessed Quirrell, he made Quirrell go out in the forest to drink unicorn blood. He told me so."

"What did Firenze tell you about that?" Remus asked. 

"God," Harry sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. He remembered that night, how Firenze had saved him and how he'd ridden on Firenze's back. But he just couldn't think of the exact things Firenze had said to him. "I can't remember," he whispered. 

"Hang on," Sirius said, got up and hurried out of the library. Harry watched him go, wondering what Sirius was up to. But he knew the moment Sirius returned and placed Harry's Pensieve down on the table. 

"You'll be able to see what Firenze told you if you look at your memory from a different perspective," Sirius said, grinning. 

"Of course." Harry grinned back, but then his face fell. "Um...how do I get the memory in there?"

"It's quite easy," Remus said. "You stare into the liquid and you concentrate on that memory and that memory alone. You put your wand against your temple and then you'll be able to drag the memory to the Pensieve."

"Okay." Harry took a deep breath and reached for his wand in the pocket of his dressing gown. He looked at the rippling surface of the Pensieve and focused on his memory of that night, on the moment Firenze had fled the other two centaurs with Harry on his back. He saw his eyes reflected in the Pensieve and while he concentrated harder on his memory he was sure he saw the Forbidden Forest come to life in his pupils. Putting the tip of his wand against his temple, Harry kept his gaze fixed on the reflection of his own eyes and then pulled. And a silvery string attached itself to his wand; the memory of that night disappeared from his mind, and when he touched the liquid with his wand, it came to life in the Pensieve. 

"Very good," Remus said. Harry smiled up at him, took a deep breath and then stared into the Pensieve. 

In slow, silver swirls the library around him transformed into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest as Harry got sucked into his own memory. He looked around at the thick trees and dark sky, and started when Remus and Sirius suddenly joined him. 

"Ah, there you are," Remus said, pointing at a large figure between the trees. 

And there he was, Harry thought, while they watched Firenze step closer, a very young Harry sitting on his back, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. 

"Look at you, puppy," came a voice from beside Harry. "Weren't you a cute little boy." Ivan grinned at Harry and then looked around in awe. "This is one neat trick."

"Hey, lad," Patrick said. "I hope you don't mind us joining you, but Ivan insisted on having a peek."

"Dude, this place is scary," Duncan said, clutching at Ivan's arm. 

Harry chuckled and looked back at Firenze. 

"Look at that horse! He's got a dude attached to itself!"

"Duncan, that's a centaur." Ivan snorted. "More importantly, look at the size of its – "

"Shut it, both of you."

"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?" Firenze asked, stopping a few feet away from them. 

"No," young Harry answered. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," Firenze said. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenceless to save yourself and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips." 

Harry gasped and looked at Sirius and Remus. "That was it! A half-life!" Then he turned and looked at Ivan, who was staring at Firenze with a frown. 

"Of course," Sirius said, and slapped his own forehead. "Why didn't we think of that."

"Dude, what?" Duncan looked confused. 

"You're immortal," Sirius said. "You only have a half-life."

"Why don't we discuss this outside the Pensieve," Remus suggested. Harry concentrated, closed his eyes and then pulled back, to find himself surrounded by warm and cool bodies in the library as they all stood huddled in front of the Pensieve. 

"The fact that you are immortal is because you only have a half-life," Sirius continued, turning around on his feet and almost knocking the Pensieve to the ground. "You can't die because part of you is already dead."

"So you're saying if Voldemort consumed unicorn's blood, he would be half-dead already as well," Patrick mused. 

"Oddly, that makes sense," Ivan said. "And, hey, there's blood involved. I told you blood is life."

"But this happened after Voldemort survived the Killing Curse," Remus said, frowning. 

"True," Sirius said, nodding. "But what if Voldemort had used unicorn's blood before? What if he had used it to become immortal during the first war? It would explain why he didn't die that night."

"Would it?" Remus asked, doubtful. 

"Yes, it would," Harry said in a sudden moment of clarity. "Vampires can't be killed by a Killing Curse, because they aren't alive like us. You said so yourself, Ivan."

Ivan nodded in response. 

"But then, how did he survive when he lost his body?" Remus asked, and looked at Ivan. "You can't survive without your body."

"I don't know, darling. I've never tried it," Ivan said.

"Dude, he lost his body? How did he do that?" Duncan asked. 

"That's the question, isn't it," Sirius said and then rubbed his hands across his face. 

"You were there, weren't you, puppy?" Ivan said and gestured towards the Pensieve. "Pop your memory in there and we'll have a look how that old snake shed his skin."

Harry glanced up at Remus. "Um...but I don't remember it."

"It doesn't work that way," Remus said. "You need a conscious memory if you want to transport it to the Pensieve. Harry was too young at the time."

"Yeah, I only remember very small bits and pieces of what appeared when I was around Dementors," Harry whispered. Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed it. 

"But dude, you were there?" Duncan asked. Harry nodded in response. "I could hypnotize you," Duncan said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

"Oh, please," Ivan snorted. "Cut it out with that crap, Duncan."

"You hate it because you never managed to learn it," Duncan said, and stuck his tongue out at Ivan. "I had him crawling around the room, imitating a pig once."

"You know hypnosis?" Remus asked. 

"Sure do, dude. Learned it from this guy in Honolulu. Herbert was his name. He taught me meditation and self-hypnosis and hypnosis."

"Herbert was a fraud," Ivan muttered. 

"He so wasn't," Duncan countered. "He was an awesome surfer. He rocked those waves. Ivan hates him because he sucks at surfing and at hypnosis."

Ivan huffed. 

"Wait," Harry said, feeling more than confused. "What can you do with hypnosis?"

"I can take you back to that memory," Duncan said. "But don't worry, dude. It won't be bad or anything. You'll be looking at it from the outside, like what happened in that bowl. Only this will be in your head."

"It's not dangerous, is it?" Sirius asked. 

"Not at all. It feels kinda nice." Duncan shrugged. 

"Let's do it," Harry said in determination. He wasn't looking forward to reliving that moment, but it might give them some idea what actually happened that night. 

"Are you sure?" Remus asked. Harry nodded and looked at Duncan. 

"You'll need to lie down on a couch, dude. Get comfortable and all. And I need a candle."

"This way," Sirius said, and they all followed him out the library and inside the drawing room. 

Harry sat down on the couch and watched quietly as Duncan pulled up a chair and Remus lit a single candle. 

"Awesome, thanks. Now, Harry, all you have to do is listen to my voice." Duncan turned in his seat to look at the others. "And it's, like, very important that you all keep quiet and don't touch him."

Nodding, Harry stretched out on the couch and stared at Duncan, feeling a small, nervous knot tie up in his stomach. 

"All right, dude. I'm going to put you under hypnosis, and then I'll ask you to describe that scene for us. Sound good?"

"Yes. I'm ready," Harry said. 

"Far out. Look at the candle." Duncan held the candle out in front of him and Harry stared at the small, flickering flame. "Concentrate on the candle, dude, and listen to my voice. Your mind will become empty. Let the flame burn all your thoughts away."

The small flame seemed to grow bigger as Harry stared at it. 

"And once your mind is empty, you'll become very tired. So very, very tired. You can close your eyes, dude."

Harry let his eyelids fall shut, feeling strangely relaxed and not nervous anymore.

"I'm going to count to ten, and when I reach ten, you'll be asleep. One...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight...nine...ten."

Harry didn't think he'd ever felt this peaceful before. A small part of his mind realized it felt much like when he'd been under the Imperius Curse. For a moment, he wondered if the Imperius Curse was based on hypnosis. 

"Can you hear me, dude?"

"Yes," Harry said, his lips moving as if he no longer controlled them. It felt so wonderful, to have an empty mind. 

"I want you to go back to that night, Harry. That night Voldemort didn't die but lost his body."

"Okay." The darkness in Harry's mind was replaced with strange images, things Harry hadn't seen before and yet had. 

"Are you there, dude?"

"Yes."

"Tell us what you see."

Harry looked around. He didn't see much of anything, but light blue walls around him. 

"Where are you, dude?"

"In a crib."

"Describe what is happening."

"I can hear my mum," Harry said, hearing his mother's voice. "She's begging for my life. She's telling Voldemort to take her instead of me."

Some part of Harry's mind knew he should feel upset about that, but he didn't. He still felt relaxed. 

"Okay. Tell us more. What is happening?"

"My mum's screaming," Harry whispered. "Oh, and now it's stopped."

"Where is Voldemort?"

"He's staring at me. He's leaning over the crib. He's got a wand. He's pointing it at me. I'm scared."

"That's okay, dude. You can be scared. But remember, this isn't happening now. It's already happened. Just tell us what you see."

"Voldemort is saying something. He's speaking the Killing Curse. There is a green light coming from his wand."

"What does the light do?"

"It touches my forehead. It burns. I'm so scared. And now the light is touching him as well."

"It touches you both?"

"Yes, the light is touching us both. The green light. So green. It is touching my forehead and it is touching his chest. He's screaming. Voldemort is screaming."

"Does he still have his body?"

"Yes. But the light is letting go of me and swallows him. He looks so green. The light is eating him."

"Dude, it eats him?"

"Yes. The lights is eating his body. It's taking his body. It just...vanishes."

"Are you alone now?"

"Yes, I'm alone. The light is gone. Voldemort is gone. I'm crying."

"Okay, dude. I want you to leave there. Go back to your empty mind."

Harry nodded, and within a second he was back inside the darkness of his own mind. He vaguely heard Duncan talking to other people but that didn't matter at all. Harry felt peaceful and good. He liked it there. 

Until he got the distinct feeling he wasn't alone any longer.

"Hello?"

"Harry Potter."

Harry turned around inside his mind. He saw the white door that had shown up in his dreams before. 

"Dude, you still with us?"

"Yes," Harry said. "He's here."

"Who is here?"

"Voldemort."

"Duncan, bring him back, now!" Patrick yelled somewhere in the distance. 

"Don't touch him, dogboy! Duncan knows what he's doing!"

"Dude, listen to my voice."

"Harry Potter. Are you too scared to face me?"

"No," Harry said and pushed the white door open.


	21. Chapter 20

Voldemort smirked at Harry, not cloaked this time, but wearing voluminous black robes. Harry swallowed and stepped inside the white room that wasn't really a room. 

"Harry Potter."

"Voldemort."

"It seems you have found me, at last."

"Yep, it seems that way," Harry said. "Where are we?"

"That is not important. What is important is how you managed to invade my mind this time."

"That is not important, either."

Voldemort chuckled. It was a horrible sound that sent shivers down Harry's body. 

"We've figured you out," Harry said with a daring curve of his eyebrow.

"Have you now?"

"Yes. I know what happened that night you tried to kill me."

"Which night would that be?" Voldemort asked, his crimson eyes narrowing in amusement. "I believe there were several."

Harry snorted. "Your Killing Curse connected us. Literally."

"Hm," Voldemort said, pursing his lips.

"And you couldn't die because you weren't alive to begin with."

Voldemort tilted his head. "How fascinating. But I assure you I was very much alive at that moment."

"No, you weren't. You were immortal. You only had a half-life."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed again, but there was no amusement in them this time. "Do you know why I was able to survive without a body, boy?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me," Harry said. 

"You," Voldemort said. "How does it feel to know you kept me alive all those years, Potter?"

Harry frowned. "That doesn't make sense."

"Oh, but it does. Aren't you the Boy Who Lived?"

Worrying his lip, Harry stared at Voldemort. "That's a stupid name people gave me."

"It might be. But it was you who gave me life when I no longer had my body."

"But how...?"

"It's magic," Voldemort said, and then stalked towards Harry. "However, I no longer need your help to survive, Harry."

"You can't touch me in here," Harry said, backing away. 

"Don't be so sure of that," Voldemort said, his thin lips curling up. "I can touch you." He raised a finger and trailed it down Harry's cheek. "And I'm positive I can also kill you."

"No!" Harry curled his hands to fists and pushed against Voldemort with all his might. Voldemort stumbled back and laughed, a high sound that echoed between the white walls that Harry couldn't see but was sure were there. 

Glancing around, Harry spotted the door through which he'd entered. 

"You cannot escape me, Potter," Voldemort said, moving towards Harry again. A howl sounded through the room, but Harry wasn't sure where it came from. All he wanted was to reach that door. He took a deep breath and made a mad dash for it. The moment he burst through it, the white room vanished and he was back inside his empty mind. 

"Harry? Dude?"

"Yes," Harry said, feeling out of breath. 

"I'm going to count back from ten and when I reach one, you'll wake up. Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...one."

Harry snapped his eyes open and realized he was lying on the floor. He glanced around the room and saw Duncan staring down at him with wide eyes. A few feet behind him, Ivan had his arms wrapped around Sirius, holding him back, and Remus stood beside Patrick, his hand curled around Patrick's arm.

"Harry!" Sirius tore himself away from Ivan and was by Harry's side instantly. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, pushing himself up. He felt tired, but otherwise he was fine. "I met Voldemort in my mind."

"We know," Remus whispered. "We heard the whole thing."

"Huh?"

"Dude, you had an Exorcist moment there," Duncan said, sounding impressed. 

"You were talking, lad," Patrick said, looking pale. "You were talking like Voldemort."

"Huh?" Harry stared up at Sirius, but Sirius only grabbed him in a tight hug.

"Let's not try hypnosis on him again," Ivan said with a shudder.

"Too right we won't," Sirius muttered against Harry's hair. 

"But we figured it out," Harry said, pulling back from Sirius so he could look at the others. "Well, mostly. The curse connected us. And he didn't deny having a half-life."

"But how did you give him life?" Ivan asked. "He didn't take your blood then."

"No, but he said it was magic," Harry said with a shrug.

Remus released a deep sigh. "Back to the books, I'm afraid. But I suggest we focus on the Killing Curse from now on. It seems it had an unusual effect on them both the moment it connected them."

"Oh, jolly," Ivan said and then winked at Harry. 

That moment, a loud explosion sounded from somewhere on the second floor. Harry looked up at the ceiling and frowned. 

"Fred and George," Duncan said. "Their dad delivered something for them earlier. They said they, like, wanted to try something out."

"Let's hope they leave the bloody roof on," Sirius mumbled, and looked at Harry again. "You sure you're feeling all right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, and glanced at Remus. "Just confused." 

Remus answered him with a soft chuckle.

*~*~*~*~*

"I don't feel like slaving over the stove. How about we get some take-away for supper?" Sirius said, breaking the silence that had hung in the library for the past hour.

Harry looked up from the text on curses he was reading. Sirius' words reminded his stomach he hadn't had anything to eat the whole day besides a sandwich that morning. After his adventure with hypnosis, they'd all returned to the library and had remained there the entire afternoon. Harry was still in his pyjamas, even. 

Beside him sat Remus, who also looked up from a book he was reading, his eyes bleary behind his reading glasses. Patrick had just returned from his umpteenth trip to the yard to have a fag, Ivan had fallen asleep – or was resting, Harry thought – a few hours before, his head slumped on top of a book with his long hair obscuring his face, and Duncan seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes open while he ploughed through a book on magical mind control. 

"Dude, I could go for a pizza," Duncan said, and then yawned, his fangs glittering in the light coming the fireplace. 

"Curry," Ivan mumbled, not even opening his eyes. "I want curry."

"You don't even have to eat," Sirius said, glaring at Ivan. 

"Still want curry."

"I'm not particularly fond of curry," Remus said. 

Patrick stretched his arms above his head. "I could go for some fish and chips myself."

"How about you, Harry?" Sirius asked, leaning his cheek on his hand as he stared at Harry. 

"Um..." Harry said. In truth, he hadn't really been following the conversation. He hadn't been following much of anything since Duncan had brought him back from his hypnotic state. 

The door that had appeared in his empty mind hadn't entirely disappeared, as it turned out. Harry couldn't see it, exactly. But he could feel it, the constant pressure in the back of his mind of another being -- a foul, evil being that was Voldemort. 

He hadn't said anything about it, thinking it would go away in time. But hours had passed and it was still there. 

"Fish and chips," he finally said, repeating what he'd heard Patrick saying. 

"Fish and chips it is," Sirius said, and looked at Remus. "If you'd be so kind?"

"It will be my pleasure," Remus said, getting up from his chair. "It will be good to stretch my legs for a bit. Will our undead guests be wanting a serving of mortal food as well?"

"Sure, dude. Just no vinegar."

"Yes, please, darling," Ivan whispered, still appearing half-asleep.

Remus offered them a smile, gave Harry's neck a little stroke and then strolled out of the library. They heard him call to the twins a moment later, and after an affirmative reply, the front door opened with a soft squeak and closed with a click. 

"I will be needing more than mortal food this evening," Ivan said, finally lifting his head off the table. He looked at Harry. "How about making a small donation to your bestest undead friend, puppy?"

Harry glanced at Sirius, who seemed uncomfortable with that suggestion. But he didn't comment, so Harry gave Ivan a small nod. 

"Fabulous. I suggest we take this to a more comfortable environment. Will the couch do for you?" Ivan pushed himself up, his eyes narrowing and his lips quirking up in a seductive smile. 

Harry swallowed. "Sure. Drawing room?"

"Perfect, puppy." Ivan circled the table and offered Harry his hand. "We'll be right back."

Letting Ivan pull him to his feet, Harry didn't dare look at the others. He felt excited and embarrassed at the idea of letting Ivan feed off him. And guilty, somehow, towards Sirius and Remus. But, as they'd discussed the previous day, they would take turns making donations to Ivan, since he did need blood to survive and he was unable to leave the house. Duncan had made an arrangement with Fred and George, who both didn't seem at all disturbed by the idea of serving as a walking banquet for a vampire. 

Inside the drawing room Harry sat down on the couch with a stiff back, his knees pressed together. Ivan sank down beside him but Harry didn't look at him. His heart hammered inside his chest and he felt nervous, cold sweat breaking out on his back. He knew it would feel good – he trusted Ivan that much – but he couldn't help remembering the unpleasant experience of the first time Ivan had bitten him. 

The idea of still having Voldemort in his mind didn't help matters much, either. 

"Relax, puppy," Ivan said, turning so he could stroke the back of his fingers down Harry's cheek. "I'll be very gentle, I promise. I'll make it good for you."

"I know," Harry whispered, still not looking up. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. I don't mind talking with my dinner."

Harry snorted. "It's not about...that."

"What did you want to ask me, then?" Ivan leaned back in the couch, his curious gaze still fixed on Harry. 

"You said hypnosis is a pile of crap. Is that true?" Harry finally looked at Ivan. 

Chuckling, Ivan shook his head. "No, it isn't a pile of crap. It's just an old joke between Duncan and me, if you will."

"Ah."

Ivan inhaled a deep breath, considering Harry. "Puppy, you're as stiff as a corpse. Now, it flatters me to think all that tension is for me, but somehow I think there's something else on your mind. Spill it."

Shrugging, Harry fumbled with the cord of his dressing gown. "I think perhaps Voldemort didn't go away entirely."

"Come again?"

"I can still feel the connection in my mind. Ever since Duncan brought me back."

Ivan frowned. "Well, it is a fact that hypnosis can reveal repressed memories. Perhaps it can also reveal repressed mental connections. But I hardly think I'm the one you should be talking to about this. Try dogboy and your wolf. I'm sure they know more about the subject."

"I don't want to worry them," Harry mumbled. 

"Puppy, if you've got a sorcerer rampaging through your mind, I do think it's something they should know. Tell them."

"All right," Harry sighed. "I'll tell them. After supper."

"And speaking of supper," Ivan whispered, leaning closer to Harry. "Take off your glasses and close your eyes."

Leaning back against the couch, Harry reached for his glasses with a trembling hand, closed his eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. Ivan cupped his face and the palm of his hand felt cold against the heated skin of Harry's cheek. Then there was the brush of lips, cool lips, across his throat. It wasn't exactly a kiss, but a flutter of soft skin searching for the perfect spot to slide two fangs inside and take his blood. 

Harry's heartbeat sped up and he heard his own intakes of breath while Ivan was silent beside him. No sound, just touches of lips and fingers, searching and comforting and then, finally, the pinprick feeling of Ivan's fangs piercing his skin and a cold tongue licking the two small wounds and coaxing his blood to flow away from him. 

"God," Harry breathed, squeezing his eyes shut against the white light on the inside of his eyelids. A thousand fingers crawled across his skin, tickling and arousing, and that strange feeling shot straight down to his sac and cock where it kneaded and stroked and Harry came and it was nothing short of an explosion while he wasn't even hard. 

It took him a few moments to steady himself and get his breathing under control. By the time he opened his eyes, there were no longer fangs or lips pressed against his throat. 

Ivan stared at him, licking his lips as he titled his head. "Good, puppy?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, blinking. "It sure was better than the first time."

Laughing, Ivan ran his fingers through Harry's hair. "Best clean yourself up, puppy. Your wolf has returned with your supper."

Harry straightened his back, inhaled a deep breath, and then reached for his wand to perform a quick cleaning spell on himself. When Ivan pulled him to his feet, Harry's mind swayed for a moment, and he inhaled another deep breath before he was able to follow Ivan out of the room. As Harry sat down at the kitchen table, avoiding Sirius' curious stare, he thought perhaps he didn't mind making donations to Ivan every few days. 

The food was greasy and perfect, and Harry ate in comfortable silence, listening to Sirius and Ivan debate whether the Beatles or the Rolling Stones were the best British band in history. Duncan made a futile attempt to convince them that even though they were American, the Beach Boys were really the best band ever, and Remus and Patrick merely exchanged amused glances. 

"The puppy has something to say," Ivan said when they'd finished their meal. All eyes were suddenly on Harry, who glared at Ivan in return. 

"What is it, Harry?" Sirius asked, his eyes narrowing. 

"Well," Harry started, and then fell silent, worrying his lip. 

"If you don't tell them, I will," Ivan said, his voice no longer teasing but almost threatening.

"All right," Harry said. "My connection with Voldemort is still there."

"Your...what?" Sirius' mouth dropped open. 

"Since Duncan brought me back. I can still feel the connection," Harry whispered. 

"Dude, is that bad?" Duncan asked, and then ducked to avoid being slapped on the head by Ivan. 

"I'll get Dumbledore on the fire," Remus said, suddenly looking pale. 

Harry buried his face in his hands, exhausted, and a few moments later Dumbledore stepped out of their fireplace. Remus gave a brief recount of what had happened that day, and it wasn't until Remus stopped speaking that Harry dropped his hands and stared at the headmaster. 

Dumbledore stroked his beard, a thoughtful frown tugging on his brow. "Harry, do you feel as if Voldemort is in control of your mind?"

"No," Harry said, determined. "I just feel the connection now. I never did before."

"May I examine your mind for a moment?"

Harry swallowed. "Yes," he whispered, and allowed Dumbledore to stare into his eyes while he did everything in his power not to let his mind snap shut. He felt the slight pressure of Dumbledore's inquisitive gaze but he forced himself to keep eye contact and not look down. 

"Hmm," Dumbledore said, finally breaking contact with Harry's mind. "I don't believe Voldemort has any control over Harry. This connection has always been there. You just weren't aware of it, Harry, at least not consciously. I daresay that if you concentrate on your connection now, you can make contact with Voldemort, mentally."

"Let's not try that," Sirius said. Harry agreed with him. 

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "Harry, I do believe it would be a good idea to keep practicing Occlumency as well as Legilimency."

"All right," Harry said, not feeling very comforted by Dumbledore's explanation. He didn't want a conscious connection with Voldemort, even if it couldn't harm him.

"If that is all, I'll be off. I will see you tomorrow at school, Harry." And with that, Dumbledore stepped into the fireplace and vanished in a burst of green flames. 

"You do have school tomorrow," Remus said, looking less tense than he did before. "Perhaps we should get some rest."

Harry nodded.

"Dude, I'm sorry," Duncan whispered, looking far too sympathetic for Harry's liking. "I had no idea –"

"Don't be," Harry said. "It wasn't your fault." And as Harry left the kitchen, he was unable to determine whose fault it was that he now had an open connection to Voldemort in his head.

*~*~*~*~*

Sleep refused to come. Or rather, Harry refused to close his eyes and allow sleep to take him to dreams of Moony, Padfoot and the full moon. All he did was stare up into the darkness of their bedroom, trying to focus on his Occlumency training. But he felt nervous and scared, even though he wasn't going to admit that, about giving into sleep. A state in which Voldemort had been able to control his mind before.

Sirius and Remus had fallen asleep some time before, but even the proximity of their warm bodies or the sound of their soft, regular breaths did nothing to relax Harry. 

After what seemed like hours of desperate thoughts, Harry decided to get up and get something to drink. Preferably something with alcohol. 

The house was quiet once again, the explosions coming from the twins' room having died down at last. Harry made his way down the stairs, but with every step he took he felt angrier and angrier. With himself. With the world. With bloody Voldemort for turning his life into such a mess. 

By the time he reached the darkened drawing room, Harry wanted to hurt someone. Or smash something. Throw some priceless trinket tainted with pureblood pride against the wall and watch it shatter into a thousand pieces and imagine it was Voldemort's very soul. 

He stomped inside and as he searched the room for whatever was suited to take his anger out on, he almost missed the still figure standing near the desk. 

Ivan looked like a statue again, pale and dead, his chest neither rising nor falling and his gaze fixed on one point. 

The Pensieve, Harry realized, after he followed Ivan's stare down to the desktop. 

"Hey," he whispered, so Ivan knew he was there. Not that he thought Ivan hadn't heard him already. 

"Hey, puppy," Ivan replied. He sounded sad, Harry thought, although he had no idea why. 

"This is a cruel device, isn't it?" Ivan whispered. 

"Huh?" Harry stepped closer, unsure what Ivan was getting at. 

"This memory bowl. Very cruel."

"Is it?" Harry asked, confused. 

"Yes. It discriminates. It will let mortals see their memories. But for immortals, who have so much more they don't want to forget, it's useless."

"Ah." Harry considered that and finally he realized what Ivan meant. "Is there a memory you'd like to look at? I could try to get it inside the Pensieve for you," he said, glad for the distraction.

Ivan snapped his gaze at Harry and frowned. "Do you think you can?"

"We won't know unless we try," Harry said. 

Nodding, Ivan glanced back at the Pensieve. "Let's give it a shot then, puppy. Hold on, I'll be right back." 

As Ivan rushed out of the room without a sound, Harry picked up the Pensieve and moved it to the coffee table. He sat down on the couch and took out his wand, waiting for Ivan to return from whatever he was doing. 

"If something goes wrong, use this," Ivan said as he entered the room again. He pressed a small, glass bottle into Harry's hand. 

"What is it?" Harry asked, staring at the clear liquid. 

"Holy water," Ivan said, lowering himself to the couch beside Harry. "I mean it, puppy. If your magic makes me act funny, just splash it in my face."

"Okay," Harry said. He dropped the bottle in his lap and tightened his fingers around his wand. "Concentrate on that memory and stare into the Pensieve."

Ivan did as Harry said and Harry watched him carefully. When he thought Ivan had a firm grip on whatever memory he wanted to see, Harry put his wand against Ivan's temple and pulled. 

A silver blob attached itself to the tip of Harry's wand, and while he kept a close eye on Ivan to see if he was about to lose control or something equally unpleasant, Harry dragged the memory to the Pensieve. 

"I think it worked," he said after he'd dropped the silver string in the rippling liquid. 

"There's only one way to find out," Ivan said. He grabbed Harry's hand and when Harry raised a confused eyebrow, he added, "You're coming with me, puppy. I might not be able to get in and out on my own."

"All right," Harry said. He had to admit he was curious to peek at Ivan's memory without the risk of getting killed, as had happened the previous time. He leaned towards the Pensieve and let it suck him in, feeling Ivan by his side the entire time. 

The first thing Harry saw was a blinding white light that seemed to be everywhere. Ivan appeared beside him and immediately dropped down and tried to scramble away. Harry realized the light came from the sun reflecting on snow, and then he understood Ivan's reaction. Vampires and sunlight didn't mix, generally. 

"It's okay," he said. "This is only a memory. The sun can't hurt you here."

Ivan looked up, and then carefully straightened beside Harry. "Of course. It's just hard to turn off five-hundred years of basic instinct."

Harry chuckled and looked around. He recognized where he was, although the first time he'd seen it, it had been green and alive. Now everything was covered in snow. "It's your house," he whispered. 

"Yes," Ivan said. He stood still, his gaze fixed on his own hands, which looked as white as the snow beneath their feet in the watery light of the sun. Harry stared at the cottage in the distance. Smoke rose from the brick chimney and the small windows were frosted, making it impossible to see inside. The trees behind the house, which had been full of leaves when Harry'd seen them inside Ivan's mind, were nothing but snow-covered branches, looking skeletal and dead. 

And then the door to the cottage swung open and out darted the young boy Harry knew was Ivan's son. He was dressed in what looked like a knitted woollen coat and furry boots covering half of his short legs. A moment later, the door opened again, and Ivan, human Ivan, stepped outside, waving a long woollen scarf at the boy. He was dressed in similar boots, but wore a long coat made of grey-brown fur. 

"That's wolf-hide," Ivan said beside Harry. "We trapped wolves in the mountains. Their fur always kept us warm in the winter. Ironic, isn't it?"

Harry said nothing and glanced at the tall mountains that surrounded the valley in which they stood. 

"This is the last time I ever saw daylight," Ivan whispered. He walked towards where human Ivan was throwing snowballs at his son, and Harry followed him. "The last time I played with my son. The last afternoon I spent with my family."

They reached the idyllic scene; a young father playing in the snow with his son. Everything seemed so simple and they looked so happy, Harry thought. 

"His birthday was a week later. He would have turned four," Ivan said, his gaze fixed on the two figures a few feet away from them. "I'd made him a stick-horse for his birthday, with real leather reins. He loved horses, like everyone in my family."

Harry swallowed. Somehow he felt as if he were intruding on something, staring at Ivan's memory and listening to Ivan's subdued voice. But Ivan wanted him here, so Harry scuffed his foot in the snow he couldn't feel and kept quiet. 

Ivan sank down in the snow, pulling his legs up to his chest. After a moment, Harry followed his example. It didn't feel cold at all, as if they were sitting on the drawing room rug instead of a snow-covered field. 

"In a few moments, I'll go back to my father's smithies, to work. I won't return until after dark. And someone will be waiting for me." Ivan drew a deep breath. "What I wouldn't give to freeze this moment. To stop myself from leaving. To not have to wake up covered in their blood, realizing what I've done."

Harry considered that. "But then you'd never have met Patrick."

Curving an eyebrow, Ivan glanced at him. 

"I mean, would you give up Patrick to stop this from happening?" Harry asked, wondering if he was out of line by confronting Ivan with that question. 

"That's an interesting dilemma, isn't it, puppy?"

Harry shrugged. 

"Would you give up dogboy and your wolf to get your parents back? To not be a werewolf? To live without a connection to Voldemort?" Ivan cocked his head, giving Harry a curious stare. 

Looking away from Ivan, Harry thought about that. The choice between his parents and his lovers was easy. He'd never really known his parents, and although he didn't wish them dead, he knew he'd rather have Sirius and Remus by his side than them. He knew Sirius and Remus. And Harry doubted he'd be with them if it wasn't for his infection. Moony infecting him was what set their whole relationship in motion, wasn't it?

And as for his connection to Voldemort, that wasn't such a difficult choice, either. Harry imagined himself alone, in a cottage very similar to the one on their right, without any connection to Voldemort but also without Sirius and Remus. 

He shook his head. "No, I wouldn't give them up for anything," he whispered. 

"Some choices, even though you'll never have to make them, are still worth considering," Ivan said. "They can tell you a lot."

"So you wouldn't give up Patrick?" Harry asked. 

Ivan smiled. "No, I wouldn't."

"Do you love him?"

"Define love." Ivan's smile turned mischievous, and Harry let out a sigh. 

"I dunno...love, just love."

"Love is only a word," Ivan said. "Your actions say much more than one single word ever could."

Harry frowned. "You mean having sex?"

Ivan burst out laughing and leaned against Harry for a moment. "No, puppy. For once in my entire undead life, I do not mean sex."

Feeling an embarrassed blush heating his cheeks, Harry glanced down. "Then I don't get what you're trying to say."

"Let me think of an example," Ivan said, after he'd caught his breath. "When those magicians attacked Patrick and me, what I did for him then shows how I feel about him."

"Ah," Harry said, although he still wasn't sure what Ivan meant. 

"When they stormed our room, I was scared and –"

"You were scared?" Harry interrupted in disbelief. 

Ivan's smile was amused. "Yes, puppy. I was scared. I was very scared I would lose Patrick. But I was also furious at those magicians for daring to attack us. So what did I do?"

"Um," Harry whispered. "You attacked them."

"And?"

"You killed two of them."

"Exactly. I killed for him, puppy. I killed for Patrick. That says enough about what I feel for him."

Harry allowed himself a moment to let Ivan's words sink in. He imagined Sirius and Remus under attack, their lives threatened by Voldemort's Death Eaters. The first tingles of rage burned inside his chest, both his own and his wolf's, at the mere idea of that. 

"I think I'd kill for Sirius and Remus," Harry said. 

"Yes, I imagine you would," Ivan said. "And that says much more about your feelings for them than one word ever could."

Harry nodded and then glanced up at Ivan. "I would kill for you. And for Patrick. And Duncan, even."

Ivan wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders. "We'd kill for you, too, puppy."

Harry leaned against Ivan and watched the father and the son chase each other through the snow, a sudden calmness nestled securely in his mind. Their chat about choices and actions had pushed Harry's worries about his connection to Voldemort and other things that made his life difficult to the back of his mind and made him feel as if he had control over them.

"Harry," Remus' voice suddenly sounded around them. "Come back, please."

Harry glanced at Ivan, who nodded, and then they both pulled back, reality catching up with them in a rush of warm air as they found themselves on the couch again. Sirius and Remus stared down at them, Patrick standing near the door with his arms crossed. 

"I couldn't sleep," Harry said. "And then Ivan wanted to see a memory so I helped him."

"That's all right," Remus said with a smile. "You two were inside the Pensieve for quite a long time. We were getting worried."

"You all right, love?" Patrick asked, tilting his head. Ivan got up from the couch, walked towards Patrick, gave him a long kiss on the mouth and then wrapped his arms around Patrick's neck, burying his face against Patrick's shoulder. It was odd, Harry thought, how Ivan, who was a good head taller than Patrick, looked so small in Patrick's arms. 

"Let's get you to bed," Patrick said. "Night, lads." Keeping his arms around Ivan, Patrick led him out of the room. 

Harry got up from the couch and glanced at Remus and Sirius. "We had a talk. And things are clearer now."

"What about?" Sirius asked, narrowing his eyes. 

"That's a bit hard to explain," Harry said, and then leaned his face against Sirius' shoulder. "Let's just say he reminded me how important you both are to me."

Sirius answered Harry by hugging him close and pressing a soft kiss to Harry's forehead. Remus put his hand on the back of Harry's neck and Harry leaned into his touch, letting his eyes fall shut and just feeling them, inhaling their familiar scent that was all around him.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry was submerged in brilliant dreams of Padfoot and Moony running under the full moon when a hand roughly shook him awake.

"Harry, wake up! We're late!"

Blinking his eyes open, Harry stared up at Remus' blurry face and wondered what the hell he was on about. 

"Come on, get up! Sirius is making you some breakfast. Let me get you in the shower."

"Huh?" Harry managed. 

Remus heaved a sigh, grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him out of bed. By the time Harry was awake enough to protest, Remus pushed him inside the bathroom. That it was already occupied by Patrick and Ivan, who were taking a bath together, didn't stop Remus from yanking Harry's boxers down and shoving him under the shower. 

"Remus!" Harry objected, and was cut off by the spray of warm water cascading down on his face. 

Remus poured a dollop of shampoo on Harry's hair. "Your classes started half an hour ago. Your dear godfather forgot to set the alarm."

"Bugger," Harry sighed, washing his hair while Remus ran a bar of soap over Harry's body. "I've got Snape first thing."

"Just tell him a vampire ate your homework," Ivan said helpfully from his spot in the tub, leaning against Patrick's chest. 

"You're not helping," Harry muttered, which earned him a chuckle from Patrick. 

"You're clean enough," Remus said, turned the water off, pulled Harry towards the sink and wrapped a large towel around him. "Brush your teeth."

Harry reached for his toothbrush, wondering how many points Snape would take for this. Before he was even done brushing his teeth, Remus yanked the toothbrush out of his mouth and told him to rinse. 

"Have a good day, lad," Patrick said. 

"And if batboy gives you any trouble, let me know. I have an appointment with him later this week," Ivan added. 

Harry waved goodbye as Remus dragged him back to the bedroom. Harry got dressed as quickly as he could while Remus gathered his books and stuffed them into his bag. Then they rushed downstairs, where Sirius shoved a sandwich into Harry's mouth. 

"See you this afternoon," Sirius said, ruffling his wet hair. And with that, Harry used the fireplace to floo to Dumbledore's office. Which was empty, thankfully. Harry hurried down to the dungeons, eating his sandwich, and then took a moment to compose himself when he reached the Potions classroom. 

"Mr Potter," Snape drawled. "Forty-three minutes late. A new personal record."

"A vampire ate my homework," Harry said, meeting Snape's narrowed gaze. For a moment, Harry was sure he saw the corner of Snape's mouth twitch, but then Snape sneered. 

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter. Arrive late in my class again, and it will be fifty."

"Yes, sir," Harry said and quickly sat down beside Hermione, who gave him a questioning look. Harry shrugged and reached for his Potions book and supplies to catch up with whatever the rest had been brewing so far. Malfoy gave him a couple of suspicious glances but Harry managed to ignore them, and he tried to focus on his class and not get distracted by Voldemort's presence in the back of his mind or his thoughts about what his friends at home were researching.

*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the week passed in a blur for Harry. Classes kept him busy during the day and homework and research kept him busy during the night. He managed to avoid his friends' questions about what had happened during the previous weekend. He didn't feel like explaining to them that a surfing vampire had somehow managed to open his connection to Voldemort through hypnosis.

And although school wasn't bad and Harry spent plenty of time at home during the evenings, he was glad when Friday finally came and he had the weekend to spend with Sirius and Remus and the rest of their odd little family. 

But when he stepped out of the fireplace in the kitchen of his home, he was disappointed to find it empty. Usually, Sirius and Remus were there to meet him with hugs, kisses and a cup of tea. Harry dropped his bag to the floor and went in search of his lovers. 

He found them in the library, together with Patrick, Ivan and Duncan. 

"Harry," Sirius said, waving him over. Harry gave Sirius a kiss and sat down on a chair beside him. 

"Good that you're home," Remus said. Only now did Harry notice that someone had wheeled a large blackboard into the library. Remus stood beside it and gave Harry a smile. "We've come to some conclusions, regarding the Killing Curse."

"More like theories," Patrick said. 

"Yes, a few facts and a few theories, after some debate --"

"Much, much debate," Sirius said, glaring at Ivan, who suddenly found his fingernails very interesting. 

"—and the necessary experimentation on mice," Remus said.

"Dude, and on Ivan and me," Duncan said, beaming. 

Harry had a hard time keeping up with everything that was being said, and he gave Remus a helpless look. 

"Why don't I just explain," Remus said, and flipped the blackboard over, revealing a very interesting drawing of a tall stick figure and a smaller one. The tall figure had had 'Voldemort' written across its chest, but it had been scratched out and replaced by 'Wanker.' Also, what Harry suspected was once a wand he'd been holding now looked like an oversized cock. 

"Duncan," Ivan scolded mildly. 

"Dude!" Duncan objected, his eyes widening. 

Sirius merely glared at Ivan, while Patrick tried not to laugh. Remus let out a tired sigh, flicked his wand and wiped the obscenities away.

"Right," Remus said. "First, we have discovered how the Killing Curse works, and why it doesn't work on vampires."

"Ah," Harry said, leaning forward in his chair. 

"The Killing Curse rips the soul away from the body," Remus said solemnly. "And thus the body dies. We observed this by watching the auras of mice while casting the Killing Curse on them."

Harry frowned. "But why don't victims of the Dementor's Kiss die then?"

"Because a Dementor devours your soul," Sirius said. "In the case of the Killing Curse, the soul has the chance to pass on, which kills the body. When a Dementor devours your soul, it stays in this world."

Harry shuddered. "Okay."

"Yes, indeed," Remus said. "Because vampires and other immortals don't have a complete soul like we do, the Killing Curse doesn't harm them, because it can't rip their soul away."

Remus pointed at the blackboard with his wand. "Now, this is what we believe happened the night Voldemort killed your parents..." He trailed off and swallowed, glancing at the floor. 

"You want me to explain it?" Patrick asked. 

"No, it's quite all right," Remus said, and took a deep breath. "Voldemort cast the Killing Curse on you, Harry." He tapped against the small figure on the board. "But you were protected by ancient magic, much stronger than the Killing Curse, because of the sacrifice your mother made."

Harry nodded. He already knew that, but he didn't want to rush Remus, who obviously found it difficult to tell this story. 

"Until now, we always thought the Killing Curse bounced off you. But it didn't. The curse couldn't cast its magical energy on you, but it did get a small hold over you." Remus drew a lightning bolt on the head of the smaller figure. "Right there.

"But the curse needed to release its magical energy and reached for the closest being." Remus drew a line from the small figure to the larger one. "And thus it connected you to Voldemort at that precise moment. However, since Voldemort didn't have a complete soul, the curse still couldn't lose its energy.

"And we believe that the ancient magic that protected you, Harry, altered the Killing Curse through that brief connection. The curse, instead of ripping away the soul, ripped away Voldemort's body. Normally, any person, mortal or immortal, would die without a body."

"And this is speculation, mostly," Sirius added, giving Remus a nod. 

"Yes," Remus said. "We think that you, or rather, the strong magic that protected you gave Voldemort's soul, his spirit, enough energy to exist. After all, the connection worked both ways at that moment. Voldemort passed some of his magic on to you."

"Parseltongue," Harry said. 

"Exactly. The connection that formed between you at that moment was so strong that it still exists. You exchanged magic, which is a form of energy. And that is what we think Voldemort meant by you keeping him alive. Your magic, strengthened by the protection of your mother, gave his spirit enough magical energy to live on after he lost his body."

Harry stayed silent.

"Is it clear enough?" Remus asked. 

"Yeah, it makes sense," Harry said. "This whole connection thing just makes me uneasy."

"Yes, I can imagine," Remus said, offering Harry a small smile. 

Sirius put his hand on Harry's knee under the table. "It was the magic protecting you that kept him alive, Harry. Not you."

Harry nodded. "How will this help us defeat him now?"

"Well, it doesn't help us directly," Remus said, and flipped the board over again. "But when we look at all the things we know, it's clear who has the best chance of defeating him."

Remus wrote down 'Connection' and then added three words under it: 'magical,' 'blood,' 'prophecy.' 

"That would be me, then," Harry whispered. Remus gave him a grave look. 

"But we do know even you won't be able to kill him with a Killing Curse," Sirius said, rubbing Harry's thigh. "We know for certain he drank unicorn blood after that night. He only has a half-life."

"That's a good thing," Harry said, trying to sound optimistic. "Since I don't even know how to cast it."

"Would you like to learn?" Sirius asked. Harry's eyes widened. 

"We've discussed it," Remus said, fumbling with his wand. "And even though it won't aid you against Voldemort, with recent developments we think it might be useful if you know how to defend yourself, should you ever come under attack."

"Can you teach me?" Harry asked, bewildered. 

"Moony and I can, yeah," Sirius whispered. 

"They were going to teach it to me as well, lad," Patrick said. At Harry's confused look, he added, "I've never cast it before. I spent most of my life in the Muggle world."

"But how will we..." Harry trailed off and glanced around the table, to find Ivan grinning at him. 

"You can use us, puppy," Ivan said, pulling Duncan close to him. "But it's going to cost you blood. Lots and lots of blood."

"All right," Harry said, thinking he didn't mind giving Ivan an extra donation or two. 

"Are you feeling up for your first lesson?" Sirius asked. Harry nodded. "Come on then. To the ballroom."

Harry hadn't even known there was a ballroom in their house, but as they all followed Sirius to a door near the end of the hallway, Harry learned that the house still had a few secrets for him. 

Pushing open the door, Sirius gestured them inside a large, empty room, with a shining wooden floor and golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The many windows were covered with thick, burgundy drapes, keeping all sunlight out. Sirius swished his wand and lit the numerous gas lamps on the walls. Apparently, the chandeliers were only for decoration. 

"I suggest we all gather at the other end of the room," Remus said. He spelled the door locked after they'd all entered and then crossed the wide floor, the wood creaking softly under his steps. Sirius conjured blue exercise mats, the type Harry remembered from his gym classes at his Muggle primary school. 

"Patrick, this is your spot," Sirius said, pointing at the mats. "We're going to stay behind you, so you won't accidentally hit us. Whatever you do, don't turn around while you're casting curses, understood?"

"Aye," Patrick said, and took out his wand. 

"You'd best use Duncan," Remus said. "You need to feel certain emotions while casting the curse. It might be hard feeling them while you're facing Ivan."

Patrick snorted. "I don't think I'll have any problems cursing that undead lover of mine."

"But you'll have to want to kill him, for the curse to work," Sirius said with a grin. "Trust me, it won't work as easily on someone you...care about."

Duncan shuffled towards Patrick. "What do I do?"

"You just stand a few feet away from him," Sirius said. Duncan did as Sirius said, looking at Patrick with wary eyes. "Remember, you have to want to kill your opponent," Sirius said, and then joined Harry and the rest behind Patrick. 

"Ready, Duncan?" Patrick asked. Duncan nodded once, pursing his lips and squeezing his eyes shut. Harry could tell from Patrick's tense shoulders that he was concentrating, and the room stayed silent for a few moments. 

"Avada Kedavra!" Patrick shouted suddenly, and a fierce jet of green light burst from his wand, hitting Duncan square in his chest. 

"Ow," Duncan said, and reached for his head. 

"Excellent," Sirius said. "Got it in one."

Patrick turned and gave them all a smile. "I imagined it was one of those bastards who tried to kill us, love."

Ivan blew him a kiss. "Now it's my turn, right? Come on, puppy. Curse my trousers off."

Glancing at Remus and Sirius, Harry reached for his wand. He felt nervous about attempting this particular curse, and he tried to keep his hands from trembling as he took the spot on the mats. Remus stepped up behind him and Harry could feel Remus' breaths on his neck. 

"Concentrate, Harry," Remus whispered, as Ivan strolled across the room and halted in front of Harry. "You'll need to feel negative emotions for this curse to work."

"Okay," Harry sighed and stared at Ivan, who cocked his head and gave Harry a charming smile. Trying to concentrate on all the horrible things Voldemort had ever done to him, Harry raised his wand. 

But this was Ivan, not Voldemort. Harry pursed his lips. "Avada Kedavra," he said, his voice cracking. 

A small wisp of green smoke erupted from the tip of Harry's wand, drooped to the floor and vanished. 

"Well," Remus said. "That was an interesting start."

"Come on, puppy. You can do better than that," Ivan said, and bared his fangs, his nose wrinkled. "Look at me. I'm a vicious killer. I'll kill dogboy and your wolf if you don't curse me right this minute!"

Harry gritted his teeth. He really didn't want to kill Ivan, but he imagined that he did. "Avada Kedavra!" he yelled as loud as he could. 

The wisp of green smoke that erupted shot through the air a few inches, then lost speed and again fell to the floor where it disappeared. 

"Bugger," Harry sighed. 

"Harry," Remus whispered into his ear. "Remember that night the Wolfsbane potion didn't work? Remember how you wanted to kill us then?"

Harry shivered in response. He remembered that night all too well, and really didn't want to be reminded of it. 

"That's how you have to feel for the curse to work. You have to want to kill, Harry. And part of you wants to. Part of you is a killer, Harry. And that's Voldemort right there. What would you do if you faced Voldemort? You would kill him, Harry. You would allow your wolf to surface and give into that call of the wild..."

"Avada Kedavra," Harry shouted, his entire body trembling as he gasped for air. A huge green flash of light burst from his wand and hit Ivan with so much force that he had to take a step back to keep his balance. 

"Now that's my puppy," Ivan said, grinning. 

"Brilliant, Harry," Sirius said. Remus gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze. 

"Let's up the stakes a bit, puppy," Ivan said, tilting his head. Harry, who felt a brief swirl of victory, gave Ivan a questioning look. "I'm going to start over there," Ivan said, and pointed at the door across the room. "And you're going to try to curse me as often as you can. If I reach you while I'm still conscious, I win. If not, the victory is all yours."

"All right," Harry said, feeling challenged. He heard Remus move away behind him as Ivan sauntered across the ballroom to the door. 

"Ready, puppy?" Ivan called. Harry nodded, raising his wand while he tried to focus on...what had Remus called it? The call of the wild. The feeling of wanting to kill something. Someone. 

"Here we go," Ivan said, and when Harry blinked, Ivan had suddenly Hamoved at least ten feet closer to him. Harry dared not blink again, and gritted his teeth while he aimed his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" The flash of green light missed Ivan by about three feet as he darted to the right and then moved forward again so fast Harry could hardly keep track. 

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry yelled again, feeling powerful magic tickle his skin as another jet of green light surged towards Ivan. And missed him. Again. 

"Avada Kedavra!" This one did hit Ivan in his chest, but it didn't stop him from crossing the last few feet and tackling Harry to the mat. 

"You're dead, puppy," Ivan growled, his lips curving up in a wide grin so Harry got a perfect view of his fangs. Harry tried to move, but Ivan had him pinned to the mat, hands on Harry's shoulders and his legs keeping Harry's pressed to the floor. 

"I want," Harry gasped, struggling, "a rematch."

"But of course." Ivan pushed himself up and was on his feet before Harry had even straightened his glasses. 

As Ivan strolled back to the other side of the room, Harry crawled to his feet and glanced over his shoulder at the rest. "Bloody hell, he's fast," he whispered. 

"I heard that!" Ivan called. 

Patrick chuckled. "That he is, lad. But look at it this way. If you manage to curse him unconscious, you'll have no problem cursing any human from now on." 

Harry shrugged. Perhaps Patrick had a point. It was good practice for casting the Killing Curse, not to mention great training for his reflexes. 

His reflexes. Harry narrowed his eyes and imagined he was on his Firebolt. He had good reflexes after all. His wand, his arm, his body became his Firebolt and Ivan was the Snitch. 

"Ready, puppy?"

"Yep," Harry said, feeling a smile tug on his lips. Ivan moved just as fast as the previous time but Harry moved his wand, his arm, his body as well. 

"Avada Kedavra!" The flash of light hit Ivan on his thigh, and he let out a loud curse as he darted in the opposite direction. 

"Avada Kedavra!" This one hit the floor just behind Ivan's left foot.

"Avada Kedavra!" Before the curse reached Ivan, he suddenly jumped up at least eight feet in the air and grabbed hold of one of the chandeliers. Harry heard a snort of laughter behind him, but he ignored it and aimed his wand again. 

"Avada Kedavra!" The stream of blinding magic hit the chandelier instead of Ivan, and the metal gave a dangerous creak, which was followed by a loud groan from the wooden ceiling. Before Harry could cast the curse again, the chandelier, with Ivan still attached, broke free from the ceiling and fell to the floor with a deafening clatter. 

"You all right, love?" Patrick asked behind Harry. 

"Never been better," came Ivan's muffled reply from beneath the heap of wrung metal and shattered crystal.

Harry pursed his lips so he wouldn't burst into laughter as he watched Ivan push the debris away and get back up to his feet. He shook his head, small pieces of crystal falling from his hair to the floor with soft clinks. 

"This is going to cost you blood, puppy," Ivan said, squaring his shoulders and cracking his neck. "Oodles of blood. Gallons. Litres." His lips twitched up in a smirk. "I'm still standing."

"Let's try again," Harry said, feeling confident, his body tingling with magic stronger than anything he'd ever felt before. Ivan gave Harry a courteous nod, turned and strolled back across the ballroom until he stood in front of the door again. 

"Ready, puppy?"

Harry nodded, and at once Ivan took off but Harry was on to him and whipped his wand through the air as he watched Ivan's every move. 

"Avada Kedavra!" The jet of green light hit Ivan on the right shoulder and Harry felt a surge of something strong and controlling ripple through his body. It made his skin shiver and his knees buckle, but he hardly noticed it. All he could think about was casting the curse again. 

"Avada Kedavra!" The curse struck Ivan in the chest, and Harry felt his cheeks heat as if he were suddenly feverish. His eyesight became foggy, and there was more of that powerful, addictive sensation crawling through his flesh until it reached his neck and throat. 

And then Harry's scar hurt like it had never done before. The pain was blinding and overwhelming and the ballroom disappeared as Harry squeezed his eyes shut and sank to the mats beneath him, his wand falling to the floor with a faint clatter as he reached for his forehead. 

Darkness for the briefest of moments, and then Harry was sucked into the white room. The door that slammed shut behind him. 

"What would Dumbledore say if he knew his golden boy was playing with the darkest of magic," Voldemort said. 

Harry lay panting on the floor and was vaguely aware that Voldemort was there as he blinked up at the tall figure looking down on him. 

"It feels good, doesn't it, Harry," Voldemort said, softer this time. "To feel all that power. To know that you are a killer after all."

"No," Harry croaked, and he tried to get up, but his body felt weak and he slumped back to the white floor that wasn't really there. 

"Liar," Voldemort said and let out a string of high, chilling laughter. "Do you believe you can lie to me, Harry, when I felt what you were feeling?"

"You couldn't have..." Harry tried to get up again and this time he succeeded, and he stood on trembling legs as he looked up at Voldemort. "You can't enter my mind."

"Ah," Voldemort whispered, tilting his head. "But you invited me right in with all those beautiful killing curses. Go, Harry. Go and cast some more of them. Give in to that darker side of yours, boy."

"No," Harry said, and he was glad to hear his voice sounded stronger now. "Never."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed. "You disappoint me, Harry. Does this mean we'll never have a proper encounter? Are you truly too weak to face me?"

"I will kill you," Harry said through gritted teeth. 

"Now you are talking, boy." Voldemort took a step back. "Soon we'll see if you truly are capable of taking a life."

Harry watched, confused, how Voldemort turned and disappeared through a door. But it wasn't the door Harry had used to enter the white room. Harry hurried towards it, and for a moment he considered following Voldemort to wherever this door had taken him. But Harry felt weak and exhausted and he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything even if he did find Voldemort on the other side. 

The image of his father lying dead and cold on that table flashed through Harry's mind, followed by Sirius' words that his luck would run out one day. 

Defeated, Harry turned around and walked back to his own door. He stepped through it and found himself in the darkness of his own mind again. Immediately, he heard voices calling his name and he felt hands shaking his shoulders. 

Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Sirius and Remus, who stared down at him with concerned frowns. 

"Harry?" Sirius traced his fingertips over Harry's cheek and Harry closed his eyes again to block out the pain that still burned around his scar. 

"We heard everything," Remus whispered, and Harry gave a faint nod as he lay there and tried to understand what had just happened. Voldemort had entered his mind, somehow. Had felt what he'd been feeling. Had literally dragged him into the white room. 

"Let's not try this hocus pocus on the puppy again," Ivan said somewhere to Harry's right, and Sirius gave a snort in reply. 

"It's useless," Harry said, and cleared his throat as he opened his eyes. Sirius grabbed his shoulder and helped him to his feet. 

"What is useless?" Remus asked as he let go of Harry's arm. 

"It's all useless. Everything. Occlumency. Legilimency." Harry shrugged and felt his throat burn and his eyes sting, and he clenched his jaw as his breathing sped up. "Voldemort was there," he said and tapped a finger against his temple. "Voldemort knew what I was doing and he knew how it made me feel."

"Harry, that is probably just –"

"Just what?" Harry yelled, cutting Remus off. "Just the connection? He's got what he wanted, then." Harry's voice got louder with every word he spoke. "Everything we've done has been for nothing! You stepping in front of that bloody hex! Me becoming a werewolf! Because Voldemort got what he wanted. He's got a way into my mind despite everything I've tried to keep him out!"

"Harry," Sirius started and wanted to put a hand on Harry's shoulder, but Harry pulled back, glaring at both his lovers. 

"Who knows what he can do now! Who knows if the next time I do magic he'll take over my mind and make me jump off the Astronomy Tower. It's all fucking useless!"

Suddenly there was a strong hand gripping Harry's throat and something inside Harry broke through his daze of panic and recognized that hand for what it was. Harry dropped to the mat, his body still as he stared up at Patrick's brown eyes. 

"Aye, the wolf in you still knows who's boss," Patrick said, his hand tightening around Harry's throat. "You won't be able to solve anything if all you can do is throw a tantrum, lad."

Harry swallowed and unconsciously leaned his head back, baring his throat. 

"That's better," Patrick said, and smiled as he slowly let go of Harry. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

"I'm sure it was because of the Killing Curse," Remus said before Harry could even move. "You've been casting powerful magic. Dark magic. We should have expected it to have an effect on your connection."

Harry looked away and said nothing. 

"Harry, get up," Sirius said, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him to his feet for a second time. "He's not in control right now, is he?"

Harry shook his head, feeling small and broken. 

"See? It was just you casting Unforgivables that gave that bastard a chance to get to you." Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulder. "How about a drink?"

Harry shrugged. "Something strong," he mumbled. 

"I've still got that bottle of whiskey Patrick gave me for Christmas," Sirius said with a half-smile. "I think now is a good time to open it."

"Okay," Harry said, and for the first time glanced up at everyone surrounding him. Ivan seemed curious, Patrick calm, and Duncan confused. Perhaps things weren't as bad as Harry had thought they were. 

"Come on," Sirius said. Harry followed him and Remus out of the ballroom, and Ivan stepped into pace with Harry. 

"I'm still standing, puppy," he whispered. 

Harry snorted and punched Ivan on the arm. 

"My oh my, aren't you a sore loser," Ivan scolded, and when Harry glanced at him Ivan stuck his tongue out. Harry snorted again, but before he knew what he was doing he gave Ivan a smile as well.


	22. Chapter 21

"Do you think Duncan and Ivan will like these?" Harry asked, pointing at the blood-flavoured lollipops on the counter of Honeydukes. 

"I expect they would," Remus said, and Bill gave a snort of laughter. 

"I'll take them," Harry said to the saleslady. He emptied his basket and Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Quills, Liquorice Wands, Chocoballs and a few slabs of Honeydukes' finest dark chocolate spilled across the counter. 

When Harry had announced he wouldn't go to Hogsmeade that Saturday, Sirius and Remus had protested vehemently, saying it would do him good to get some fresh air and spend some time with his friends. So Harry had given in and spent the morning strolling around Hogsmeade with Ron, Luna, Neville and Ginny, and of course their chaperones, Remus and Bill. Hermione had been off with that Ravenclaw Chaser she was seeing, but Harry hadn't minded her absence much. It meant there would be fewer questions to answer. 

After the rather unpleasant experience while casting Killing Curses the week before, Harry had felt subdued. Defeated, almost. He'd been having a hard time sleeping, and when he'd had to use magic during his Charms class on Monday he'd half expected Voldemort to invade his mind again. But no such thing had happened, and Harry was forced to admit to himself that perhaps Sirius and Remus had been right, and that his last encounter with Voldemort had been the result of casting Dark magic rather than everyday magic. 

"That'll be five Galleons, dearie," said the saleslady, and Harry emptied his money pouch to pay for all the sweets. He accepted the paper bag, gave the lady a smile, and followed Remus and Bill out of the shop. 

"Do you need anything else?" Bill asked, giving Harry a curious look. 

"No, I'm good," Harry said, and glanced up at Remus. "I'd like to go home now."

"Of course," Remus said, and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Do you think you can apparate the distance to London?"

Harry swallowed. He'd never apparated that far before, but it did mean getting home sooner, instead of having to walk all the way back to the castle to use Dumbledore's fireplace. He gave Remus a nod. "Yeah, let's apparate."

"I'll see you on Monday, Harry. Have a good weekend, you two." Bill smiled, and Harry returned it as Bill turned and walked down Hogsmeade's main street back to Hogwarts. 

"Here," Remus said, guiding Harry to a secluded spot between two houses. "We'll have a bit more privacy this way. You go first, Harry. I'll be right behind you."

Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on the spot right outside Grimmauld Place where he wanted to land and gave his body the command to apparate. 

The world spun around him for a moment and when he opened his eyes he felt dizzy, but he had made it, with all his bits still attached. Remus appeared beside him and opened the front door with a tap of his wand. They walked through the hallway and down the steps to the kitchen, where they found Sirius, Ivan, Duncan and Patrick emerged in a game of Scrabble. 

"Intractabillion isn't a word," Sirius said, glaring at Ivan across the board.

Ivan smirked. "It's right there, dogboy. A pity you know less about your own language than a foreigner does."

"Ivan," Patrick sighed. "As a native speaker of the English language I can assure you that 'intractabillion' isn't a valid word." 

"Well then, it seems that our fourth player gets the final say in this," Ivan said, glancing at Duncan. "Remember, Duncan, I have the power to disown you. Just a thought."

"Dude, I'm an American," Duncan said, and shrugged. "I'm hardly an expert on the English language, you know?"

Harry, still standing in the doorway, shared an amused glance with Remus and snickered. 

"Harry," Sirius said, his face lighting up. "How was your day?"

"All right. I brought sweets." Harry dropped the paper bag on the table and sat down beside Patrick. 

"Is that all you brought?" Ivan asked. "I smell blood."

"Yeah, I brought you and Duncan something special," Harry said, reached into the bag, and handed Ivan and Duncan a blood-flavoured lollipop. 

"Cool, thanks," Duncan said, giving Harry a grin. 

Ivan accepted the lollipop, sniffed it once, and then slid it into his mouth. He suckled it for a moment and then pulled it out again with a soft pop. "Tastes like German."

"Hmm," Duncan agreed, sucking hard around his lollipop. 

Sirius snorted, Patrick rolled his eyes, Harry helped himself to a Chocolate Frog while trying not to grin, and Remus poured a cup of tea. 

"I see you're still an enthusiast for Muggle board games," Remus said to Patrick, sipping his tea.

"Aye. It seemed like a decent way to pass the time in here," Patrick said, and gave Ivan a quick glance. "Of course, Ivan insists on cheating in this game as well."

Ivan huffed. He still hadn't removed 'intractabillion' from the board, Harry noticed. 

"So we're going to spend our evening playing Scrabble?" Harry asked. "Or does anyone have another suggestion?"

"I'd say dinner and a movie, but I assume that is out of the question," Ivan replied around his lollipop. 

Harry snickered and inspected his Chocolate Frog card. Dumbledore. He already had dozens of those. 

"Or we could all have one big, horny orgy. There's not much else to do around here." Ivan slapped Sirius' hand away when Sirius went to remove Ivan's invalid word. 

"Shut it, Ivan." Patrick popped a Chocoball into his mouth. 

"There's always more research," Sirius said, glaring at Ivan as he grabbed a handful of letters from the board, leaving only 'intract'. 

"Great," Harry sighed. He spent the whole week studying at Hogwarts. He was getting sick of having to spend his free time bent over books as well, no matter how much he wanted to defeat Voldemort. "I liked Ivan's suggestion better."

"Let's get out of here then, puppy," Ivan said, one corner of his mouth twitching up as he kept suckling the lollipop. "We'll make wild, passionate love all night long." 

"You're not making anything with Harry, you miserable, cheating stiff," Sirius snarled. Harry fought back a smile. It made him feel warm to see Sirius being so possessive over him. 

The door flew open with a bang and in walked Fred and George, both holding white boxes. 

"We would like to show you our latest invention," Fred said. 

"And you may all blame Duncan for it as he gave us the idea," George added. His box made squeaky noises and Harry wondered what on earth the twins had been up to now. 

"Dude?" Duncan said, widening his eyes as he stared at the twins. 

"You're not going to blow up my house, are you?" Sirius asked, pushing himself up from his chair. 

"No worries," Fred assured him. "We've already tested our invention many times, and it's perfectly safe."

"If you're not in the line of fire," George said, grinning. 

Harry got up as well, and followed the twins out of the kitchen after they gestured for everyone to come with them. They made it to the drawing room, but as Remus wanted to enter it, George put his hand on Remus' arm and held him back. 

"We will conduct our demonstration in there," Fred said, and flipped the lid of his box open. "But you, as the audience, have to watch it from here."

George stepped inside the drawing room, placed his box on the coffee table, and then joined the rest in the hallway again. 

"After we made a small donation to Duncan that first night we were here," Fred started, giving Duncan a smile, "we discussed ways we'd like to take out Voldemort."

"And Duncan had a most interesting suggestion," George continued. "He said he wanted to shove a hand grenade up old Voldemort's arse."

"Of course, we had no idea what a hand grenade was, so Duncan explained it to us," Fred said, and held his box so everyone could see what was inside it. There were about a dozen spheres in it, the size of apples, with transparent outsides and filled with what seemed to be white smoke that swirled around inside it. 

"The concept of the hand grenade inspired us to create something similar based on magic." George picked up one of the spheres. "And thus we present to you the hex-grenade."

"The what?" Sirius asked, staring at the ball in George's hand with a frown. 

"Allow us to demonstrate," Fred said and pulled out his wand. "Please, step back." He ushered everyone back a few steps and then flicked his wand. The box inside the drawing room popped open and out crawled dozens of white mice. 

"What on earth..." Sirius started, but George shushed him. 

"Don't move," Fred said, joining them against the wall opposite the doorway. George took out his wand as well and pointed it at the sphere in his hand. 

"Stupefy." The smoke inside the ball coloured red and lit up. George tossed the sphere inside the drawing room where it rolled over the floor until it came to a stop against one of the table's legs. 

Harry watched with his mouth slightly opened, wondering what was going to happen next. He knew what a hand grenade was, but he still had a hard time understanding exactly what the twins had produced. 

The glowing ball exploded in a cloud of smoke and red light, and Harry instinctively ducked, as did everyone around him besides Fred and George. As the smoke cleared inside the drawing room, Harry saw that all the mice, which had been scurrying around only seconds before, lay motionless. 

"Did that ball just...?" Sirius closed his mouth and glanced at the twins. 

"It Stupefied all the mice, yes," Fred finished for him. "It will hold any spell you cast on it for about seven seconds before releasing it."

"Dear lord," Remus whispered, staring into the drawing room with wide eyes. 

"Dude, that's so wicked," Duncan said, giving the twins a huge grin. 

"I'll say," Ivan chimed in, looking impressed. 

"That's a powerful weapon you've created, lads." Patrick didn't seem to know if he should look impressed or horrified. 

"Actually, it works on some of the same principles as a dungbomb," George said with a shrug. "The most difficult part was creating a way to have the time release spells work alongside the hex it's supposed to release."

Harry worried his lip for a moment. "You say it can hold any spell?" he asked softly. Fred nodded. "How about an Unforgivable?" 

Remus snapped his gaze at Harry and narrowed his eyes. Sirius did the same, and Harry almost felt like giving them an apologetic smile. 

"You mean a..." George pursed his lips. 

"A Killing Curse," Harry whispered, and gave a nod for good measure. 

"Dear lord," Remus said again, and Patrick hummed his agreement. 

"Theoretically, the hex-grenade should work with a Killing Curse," Fred said, and looked at George with a tilt of his head. 

"Let's find out," George said, and grabbed another hex-grenade from the box Fred was still holding. 

"Wait," Sirius said, putting his hand on George's arm. "You've never tested that thing with a Killing Curse before? How do we know it won't blow up in our faces?"

"We don't," Fred said, and George turned to look at Duncan and Ivan. 

"Give me that thing," Ivan said, and accepted the sphere from George before he positioned himself in the doorway. "It won't hurt me, but I suggest you all take a few more steps back."

Everyone save for Fred did as Ivan told them, pressing themselves against the wall so they could still peek inside the drawing room. Fred flicked his wand at the Stupefied mice and muttered, "Finite Incantatem." The mice crawled back onto their little feet and continued exploring the room. Fred backed up a few steps as well, and then pointed his wand at the sphere in Ivan's hand. 

"Be sure to throw it inside the room the moment I've cast the curse," he said, and Ivan gave a nod. 

Fred swallowed. "Avada Kedavra!" he said, and they all watched how the ball absorbed the jet of green light and started to glow much brighter than it had done during the first demonstration. Ivan tossed it inside the drawing room and then turned towards the rest. 

"I think you'd all best seek some cover," he said, but before anyone could move, a ground-shaking explosion sounded from the drawing room and clouds of green smoke erupted from the doorway. Ivan threw himself at Harry and the rest and knocked the lot of them to the ground. Harry bumped his head on Sirius' knee and felt Patrick's elbow stab into his stomach while Ivan's weight bore down on him. 

Slowly, the smoke cleared from the hallway and Harry blinked as he tried to get up from the floor. 

"Everyone still among the living?" Ivan asked, and around them sounded grunted moans as Harry disentangled himself and crawled back to his feet. He was most relieved to see that everyone was still moving. 

"It looks like it worked," Ivan said, peeking around the doorway inside the room. Harry took careful steps towards the drawing room, Sirius and Remus on his heels. Inside, he could see the mice lying motionless, looking quite dead. 

"Aye, it looks like it did," Patrick whispered, putting a hand on Ivan's shoulder as he stared into the room. 

The twins seemed speechless and exchanged a few odd glances that Harry didn't understand. 

"Promise me one thing," Remus said, staring at Fred and George, his face pale. "Whatever you do, never market these things."

"They're for Order use only," Fred replied in an unusually soft voice. George merely nodded his agreement.

Sirius slid his arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him close. Harry leaned his face against Sirius' chest and closed his eyes for a moment. He'd never imagined there would ever be something more deadly than a Killing Curse. And now there was, and Fred and George had invented it. Harry wondered what had happened to the world, when Fred and George Weasley decided to come up with a deadly weapon instead of magical joke items. 

"Who's up for a game of Monopoly?" Patrick suddenly asked, and cleared his throat. 

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Remus said, smiling at Patrick while he gave the back of Harry's neck a little squeeze. 

"Dude, I'm awesome at Monopoly," Duncan said. 

Ivan's mouth curled up in a smirk. "I'll be the –"

"Anyone can be the bank except for Ivan," Patrick said, and ignored Ivan's affronted look.

"What's Monopoly?" Sirius asked softly, glancing down at Harry. 

"You have to buy streets and hotels and you can win fake money. Or lose it," Harry said. "It's all right."

Sirius pressed a kiss to Harry's lips. "Sounds like fun."

Fred closed the box with hex-grenades and tucked it safely under his arm. "Does anything explode?"

"Not usually, but I'm sure with you two playing that will soon become part of the game," Remus said, and gestured for the twins to follow them down to the kitchen. Sirius gave Harry another kiss and then they too left the room filled with dead mice behind to go play an innocent, Muggle game.

*~*~*~*~*

There were lips kissing his shoulder as Harry woke up, and he stretched against the warm body pressing up against his back.

"Morning," Sirius whispered. 

Harry opened his eyes and saw Remus watching him. He smiled. 

"Did you sleep all right?" Remus asked, and Harry understood that question was more than just politeness. Ever since Harry had become aware of his constant connection with Voldemort, he'd had trouble sleeping, afraid that Voldemort would enter his mind while he was at his weakest. He'd never told Remus or Sirius that, but it seemed he didn't have to for them to understand what he was feeling. 

Harry nodded against his pillow. "Yeah," he whispered, and cleared his throat to rid it of morning dryness. 

"Good," Sirius said, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist. "It's Sunday. How about we just stay in bed all day?"

"Sounds good," Harry said, grinning at Sirius over his shoulder. 

"Stay in bed all day?" Remus asked, raising his head off the pillow to look at Sirius. "Afraid you'll get beaten by a vampire again at whatever game they'll play next?"

"Are you calling me a sore loser, Moony?"

"Not at all, Padfoot. But I imagine it must be hard for you to have been beaten by a sixteen-year-old boy," Remus replied with a smirk.

"That cadaver is over a century old, mind you. Don't call him a boy."

"He still beat you at Monopoly." Remus winked at Harry, who pressed his face against his pillow to stifle his laughter.

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at the ceiling. "Actually, I was planning to see to your needs, what with the full moon rising in a few days. But I think you two'll just have to do without sex for the rest of the day." Sirius pushed himself up and made to get out of bed, but Harry caught his wrist. 

"I didn't say anything," Harry said, pushing his bottom lip out in a small pout. "Can I have sex? Please?"

Sighing, Sirius sat down on the edge of the mattress and looked at Harry and Remus. "Fine. But no more teaming up against the defenceless human."

Remus let out a loud snort while Harry tried to pull Sirius back into bed, but Sirius peeled Harry's fingers off his wrist and straightened. 

"How about breakfast in bed and then sex for the rest of the day?" Sirius asked, tilting his head. 

"Sounds very good," Harry said. Remus hummed his agreement. 

"All right. Three hearty breakfasts coming up." Sirius gave them a cocky grin and strode out of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. 

"Do you think he really believes we're teaming up on him?" Harry asked once Sirius' footsteps had died down. 

"No," Remus replied, and stroked Harry's hair. "He's just being dramatic. I think Ivan's rubbing off on him."

Harry let out a burst of laughter. "I'm not sure if that's a good thing."

"Sirius has always been a bit of a drama queen," Remus said with a fond smile. "If he suddenly starts wearing leather trousers, though, it might be time to intervene."

"I heard that!" came an offended voice from across the hallway, followed by a grumbled, "Shut it, Ivan, I'm not done with you yet."

Harry stared at Remus for a moment, and then pulled the covers over his head and snorted with laughter.

"Merlin's balls! I don't bloody believe this!" Sirius' outraged voice was followed by the sound of hurried footsteps up the stairs. Harry snapped his mouth shut, pushed the sheets down and saw Sirius burst into their bedroom, waving the _Daily Prophet._

"What's wrong?" Remus asked, sitting up against the headboard. Harry followed his example just as Sirius threw the newspaper at them and sank down on the side of the bed. Harry glanced at the headline and couldn't believe his eyes. 

'SCANDAL! HARRY POTTER IS SIRIUS BLACK'S SECRET LOVE SLAVE!'

"What?" Harry gasped, and reached for the nightstand, picking his glasses up with trembling fingers. Perhaps he'd read it wrong. But when he slid his glasses on the words were still there, even clearer now. Beside Harry, Remus seemed speechless and stared at the newspaper with a disgusted look on his face. 

"I don't believe the nerve of that rat," Sirius growled, glaring at the _Prophet_. "It had to have been that traitor."

"Yes," Remus said. "But I think it was Voldemort who leaked this information to the press."

"Why?" Harry asked, but before Remus could answer someone cleared his throat. 

Patrick stood in the doorway. "Something wrong?" he asked, buttoning up his jeans. Ivan joined him, looking inside their bedroom with curious eyes. When he spotted the newspaper, he pushed past Patrick and strolled inside. 

Pulling his dressing gown closed, Ivan tilted his head and read the headline. Much to Harry's surprise, he started laughing. "It's not as if they're lying," Ivan said in between snorts of laughter.

"Shut it, Ivan." Patrick stepped inside as well, whacked Ivan on the head, and saw the paper. "You've got to be bloody kidding me."

Remus shook his head. "Afraid not."

"But why?" Harry asked, looking between the men gathered in his bedroom. "Why on earth would Voldemort leak this to the press?"

"Weaken your enemy before attacking him," Sirius muttered, still glaring at the offending newspaper. 

"Weaken?" Harry said, and inhaled a shaky breath. "This isn't going to weaken me. It's just pissing me off."

Ivan snickered in response and seated himself at the foot of their bed. "Don't let him get to you, puppy. Just have a laugh about it."

Remus ignored him. "I think perhaps weaken isn't the correct word. Distract seems more fitting."

"Huh?" Harry stared at Remus, who picked up the _Daily Prophet_ with a sigh. 

"This will distract you, Harry," Remus said, unfolding the paper on his lap. "Imagine walking around Hogwarts with all the students whispering about your sex life."

"Oh god," Harry gasped. That idea made him feel nauseous. 

"Exactly," Remus said, and shared a brief glance with Sirius. "Let's see what nonsense they've written about you this time." He cleared his throat and started reading aloud. 

"A new scandal has surfaced concerning Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. A reliable source informed us that Harry Potter not only prefers men for company instead of women, but is also involved in a clandestine relationship with the escaped Azkaban prisoner Sirius Black.

"It was Sirius Black who betrayed the Potters sixteen years ago and sent You-Know- Who after his godson, Harry Potter. We can only speculate how Black, one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's most loyal servants, got close enough to Harry Potter to force him into a life of sexual slavery. We assume he got a hold over Harry Potter's free will by using Dark Magic, possibly the Imperius Curse. 

"How Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and responsible for Harry Potter's well-being throughout the school year, could have let this happen is a mystery which we aren't able to answer yet. Headmaster Dumbledore was unavailable for comment, Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall informed us yesterday. McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House and Harry Potter's mentor, also refused to get into the matter of Harry Potter's illegal love life.

"Lucius Malfoy, once accused of being a You-Know-Who supporter but cleared last year by Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, was willing to comment on the matter. 

"'My beloved wife Narcissa, Black's first cousin, suffered at the hands of Sirius Black in her youth,' he told us. 'Black always had a sadistic streak and enjoyed playing games with his cousins, forcing them to obey him and perform sexual acts for him. My wife's sister Bellatrix Lestrange was driven mad by Black's use of Dark Magic on her, and he ultimately succeeded in luring her to You-Know-Who's side. It grieves my wife to this very day that she's lost her sister at Black's hands.'

"Narcissa Malfoy was too overcome by emotion to make a statement, and as Mr Malfoy comforted his wife, he said: 'One can only imagine what Sirius Black is doing to Harry Potter. That it will lead to Harry Potter's downfall if no one puts a stop to it seems inevitable.'

"The hardest part of this matter is that Sirius Black is Harry Potter's godfather, and thus legally his guardian. It is shocking to know that the Ministry has never stepped in and acquired legal guardianship over Harry Potter for his own protection and that of the entire wizarding world. One can only wonder how the Ministry of Magic could let an innocent boy fall into the hands of one of the most notorious wizards of our age."

Remus slowly closed his mouth and lowered the paper. For a moment, no one said a word, and as Harry stared at Sirius he was too overcome with rage to say anything. Judging by Sirius' expression, which twisted up until he looked ready to strangle someone with his bare hands, he was having a similar problem. 

"All right, who is this Malfoy?" Ivan asked, apparently the only one not completely shocked by the article. 

"He's a dead man, that's what he is," Sirius snarled. "He and that cousin of mine."

"Calm down, Sirius," Remus said quietly, but he too seemed ready to kill someone. 

"It's not true, is it?" Harry asked, unsure. 

"Of course it's not true." Sirius jumped up to his feet. "I've never touched any of my cousins. Never laid a hand on them."

"That's what I thought," Harry muttered, glancing down at the sheets. He imagined this story making its way through the halls of Hogwarts, and shuddered. 

"Do you want me to pay this Malfoy character a little visit, dogboy?" Ivan asked, leaning back against the footboard. 

"How kind of you to offer," Sirius said, his mouth twisting up in an almost deranged smile. "But if anyone is going to take that bastard out, it's going to be me."

"Why don't we just contact Dumbledore?" Remus said, folding the newspaper and placing it on the nightstand. "The Ministry can't touch Harry as he's a legal adult, but it might be best to discuss if there are other things they can do regarding this article."

Harry kept staring at the sheets. He didn't mind the idea of people knowing he was shagging his godfather all that much, but he did have a problem with how the _Prophet_ had painted Sirius. 

"Who died?"

Looking up, Harry saw Fred standing in the doorway, with George right behind him. 

"No one. Yet," Sirius grumbled, and threw the newspaper at the twins. They gaped at the headline for a moment, and then gave the lot of them a serious look. 

"Mum's going to read this," George said. 

"You'd best come up with something to explain this before she castrates you all," Fred added. 

"Fuck," Harry breathed. 

"I'll get Dumbledore on the fire," Remus said, and pushed himself out of the bed with a tired sigh.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry sank down at the kitchen table while Remus conversed with Dumbledore over the fire. Sirius put down pots of coffee and tea, and sat down beside Harry, rubbing his hands across his face.

"Don't worry, lad," Patrick offered, pouring himself a mug of coffee. "The Ministry can't do anything about your sex life, no matter how immoral they believe it is."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Mr McKinley," came Dumbledore's voice from behind them. Harry turned in his seat and saw Dumbledore brush soot off his sleeve before he sat down at the head of the table. 

"Yes, I saw the article this morning," Dumbledore continued, looking as composed as ever. "And while that was certainly an...unpleasant surprise, _this_ offers more reason for concern." He pulled something from his pocket and offered it to Harry. 

A letter. 

Harry felt his stomach drop as he accepted it with trembling fingers. "What does it say?" he asked, staring up at Dumbledore. Perhaps if he didn't see whatever was in that letter it wouldn't be all that bad, a small part of his brain tried to reason. 

"The Ministry insists on an inquiry concerning the whereabouts of Sirius," Dumbledore said. Harry's stomach sank further. "They say they have reason to believe you've been in contact with Sirius, and since Sirius is still a fugitive, they want to see you, Harry, at the Ministry this Wednesday evening."

Harry blinked, his mouth dropping open. "Wednesday is the full moon," he whispered. 

"Indeed," Dumbledore said with a grave nod. 

"They can't do this!" Sirius yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. Remus said nothing, and flicked his wand to clean up the spilled coffee and tea.

"But don't they need evidence if they want to bring someone in for questioning?" Patrick asked. 

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, which is why I've already replied to this letter, stating that we'd like to know why they believe Harry has information about Sirius. It will hopefully buy us some time."

Dumbledore didn't sound particularly convinced, Harry thought, but before he could ask more, a loud crack sounded in the hallway. A moment and a few hurried footsteps later, Kingsley Shacklebolt walked inside the kitchen. 

"Kingsley, thank you for meeting us here," Dumbledore said. Kingsley nodded at everyone and raised a questioning eyebrow at the headmaster. "They want to bring Harry in for questioning," Dumbledore explained. "We need to know the status on the hunt for Sirius."

Crossing his arms, Kingsley leaned back against the wall and ignored Ivan's suspicious glare. "There haven't been any sightings of Sirius for a while now. If they have reason to believe Harry knows where Sirius is hiding out, they certainly haven't shared it with me. As far as my investigation shows, Sirius is still hanging about Tibet."

For a moment, no one made a sound, and then Harry cleared his throat. "We can send Snape again, can't we?"

"Yes, I suppose we can ask Professor Snape to visit the Ministry in your stead, Harry, but that still doesn't solve any of our real problems."

Harry frowned at Dumbledore, but before he could ask for an explanation, Patrick cut in.

"They're not buying it. They're asking you to come over on a full moon, lad. They're not convinced just yet."

"Oh hell," Harry said, glancing around the room. He could tell by the look on Kingsley's face that Kingsley had just drawn a few conclusions. He gave Kingsley an uncertain smile, but Kingsley averted his gaze and stared at the floor. Something broke inside Harry and poured bitter venom inside his mind. 

"They can't keep fucking up my life!" he yelled. 

"Harry," Remus started, but Harry made an impatient gesture at him. He wanted to yell more, but a flare of pain burst from his scar and he could feel the connection throb inside his mind. 

"Harry," Remus said again, worried this time. 

"I'm okay," Harry whispered, rubbing his forehead. "He knows. He knows everything." His mind felt as if it was about to burst, and Harry didn't want to talk anymore or listen to the pathetic plans people came up with to keep his arse out of trouble. He shoved his chair back, and without saying a word he rushed out of the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind him.

*~*~*~*~*

For the rest of the day, Harry managed to avoid everyone else. At first he hid out in the bedroom, then the bathroom, and later he spent a few hours in Buckbeak's room before finding the drawing room empty and retreating in there.

Though he didn't see anyone in the house, he was never alone. The connection was pushing at his mind, at his thoughts, a constant pulsing taunt of what Voldemort had managed to accomplish now. Harry was tempted to open the connection and meet Voldemort face to face several times, but he was able to restrain himself, uncertain what he could do to Voldemort besides yell at him for fucking him over time and again. 

Harry sat on the couch, stared into the fireplace and tried to think of times he'd felt happy and good about himself. He couldn't remember them. He couldn't even remember what it felt like to catch a Snitch or to reach his climax trapped between hard bodies and even harder cocks.

He couldn't remember much of anything other than the ongoing drama that was his life. 

It would never stop. No matter how much Harry wanted it all over with, he now knew it would never, ever end. 

The sound of nails clicking on wood alerted Harry, and he looked up. Padfoot stood in the doorway, his ears lowered and his tail giving a slow swish. 

And no matter how desperately Harry didn't want to see anyone else, he couldn't send Padfoot away. 

"Hey," he said, and managed a half-smile. Padfoot raised one ear and wagged his tail harder, taking a few hesitant steps inside the room. "I haven't seen you in a while." Harry reached out his hand and drew his fingers through the thick fur on Padfoot's neck. 

It was hard to remember that this was Sirius when Padfoot looked at him with big, round eyes. Some part of Harry, _that_ part, recognized Padfoot as far more than just a friend, a lover. He was pack, and that called to something primal in Harry. His strokes became more confident, and he smiled when Padfoot rested his head on his thigh. 

Harry leaned down and nuzzled Padfoot's head, curling his fingers around Padfoot's soft ears. Padfoot let out an appreciative groan and pushed his head further up Harry's leg until his nose bumped against Harry's groin. 

Snapping his head up, Harry stared down at Padfoot, who wagged his tail and pushed his nose against Harry's cock again. 

"Um...you want to...do that?" Harry asked, uncertain. They hadn't done anything like that since that one time during the summer, but the thought of feeling Padfoot's tongue on his cock certainly wasn't unwelcome. Padfoot sniffed and rubbed his nose against Harry's hardening prick insistently. 

"Okay," Harry said, and reached for his zipper, but stilled his hand before he pulled it down. "I know you don't really like this and you don't have to do it just because I'm miserable, you know."

Padfoot made an impatient sound and clawed at Harry's shin. Harry grinned, lowered his zipper and popped the button open. Padfoot immediately buried his nose in the exposed flesh and Harry barely had time to lower his trousers before he felt the first swipe of Padfoot's tongue over his skin. 

"Wait, wait," Harry gasped, trying to wriggle his jeans down so he could pull out his cock. Padfoot huffed, Harry gritted his teeth, and then Padfoot's skilled tongue licked over the sensitive skin of Harry's prick. 

"God, yeah," Harry sighed, letting go of his cock to give Padfoot all the room he needed. He sagged back on the couch and watched through hooded eyes how Padfoot's pink tongue worked around his prick. 

And then suddenly, Padfoot was gone and Sirius sat there, his eyes narrowed. He pulled away from Harry and turned to glare at the door. "Piss off, you miserable stiff!"

Ivan stood in the doorway, and for a moment he glanced over his shoulder, as if he were uncertain whom Sirius was addressing. A slow grin crept across his face and he cocked his head. "Don't stop on my account, dogboy. I was just about to enjoy the show."

"This is private," Sirius said through gritted teeth, slowly getting to his feet. 

"Shouldn't have left the door open, then." Ivan shrugged and made no attempt to leave. 

Sighing, Harry sat up and tucked his softening cock away. No matter how much he liked Ivan, he had no interest of doing anything sexual in front of him. Anything sexual except for creaming his trousers whenever Ivan fed off him, but that was already more than Harry could handle. 

"Never mind," he mumbled, not meeting Sirius' gaze. Sirius nodded, and sank down on the couch beside Harry. 

"Oh, come on," Ivan said, sauntering inside the room. "What's with all these gloomy faces?"

Harry said nothing and only glared at Ivan, as if he suddenly were the reason for Harry's unmanageable life.

Ivan smiled. "There are worse things in the world than a bit of bad publicity, puppy. I could tell you about the time a Russian War Lord locked me inside a vertical coffin nailed with crucifixes for two months. That certainly didn't bring my spirits down."

"Shut it, Ivan," Patrick said as he stepped inside the room, followed by Remus. 

Ivan sniffed, and Harry didn't meet anyone's eyes. He felt the couch dip as Remus sat down on his other side, and then a hand squeezed his thigh. Harry still didn't look up. 

"Dumbledore will inform the Order," Remus said, squeezing Harry's leg again. "At least we don't have to worry about any well-meant attempts to keep you out of Sirius' evil clutches."

Harry snorted and pursed his lips. 

"They're just trying to distract you, lad," Patrick said. "Hell, they're trying to distract the whole bloody world."

This time, Harry did look up, and wondered when exactly Fred, George and Duncan had entered the room. Patrick offered him a smile, but Harry was unable to return it. 

"Fudge will do anything to keep people's minds off Voldemort," Remus said. "And you are the perfect target, unfortunately."

"Huh?" Harry finally glanced up at Remus. 

"You're famous," Remus said, and then looked at Sirius. "As are you."

"Yep," Sirius said with very little enthusiasm. 

"I never asked to be famous," Harry muttered, feeling like a child surrounded by lecturing adults. "I never asked for any of this."

"I know," Remus whispered, again squeezing Harry's thigh. Harry had the strange urge to pull back from his touch. He didn't want sympathy. He wanted the whole bloody world to leave him alone already. 

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, puppy," Ivan said, looking as pleased as ever. "In two hundred years, no one will remember you."

"And a lot of good that will do me," Harry spat. "I'll be dead."

"Of course not," Ivan said with a careless shrug. "Unless that old snake gets to you first, but you can't go around believing that."

"Huh?" Harry gaped at Ivan. 

"You're a werewolf, puppy. You'll live for a bloody long time. Perhaps not as long as Duncan or myself, but still...you'll be around for a while."

A thick, uncomfortable silence filled the room, and Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times as he looked between the men present. Remus was staring at his shoes, Sirius suddenly found the chandelier very interesting, Patrick's brow was knitted up in a frown and Ivan gave him a beaming smile. In a corner, Duncan stood huddled between George and Fred, and Harry was shocked to see that while they didn't look exactly comfortable, they didn't look confused either. 

"Wait. What?" Harry narrowed his eyes as he looked at Remus, but Remus refused to meet his gaze. 

"You're a werewolf," Ivan repeated, glancing around the room, looking as if he didn't understand why no one was backing him up. "You're not exactly immortal. You won't have eternal beauty and all that crap like some of us, but your body regenerates itself every month. You'll age, but you'll never get ill. It will take your body a long time to die."

Harry felt as if someone was choking him and he gasped for air. 

"You never told him, did you?" Patrick asked, staring at Remus, who finally looked up. 

"I was waiting for the right moment," Remus whispered. 

"What?" Harry finally managed to say.

"Ivan's right," Patrick said. 

"But." Harry snapped his mouth shut for a moment, trying to make sense of the countless thoughts that thundered through his mind. "That wasn't in the book I read. That's not possible."

"We wolves like to keep that bit of information to ourselves," Patrick said. "No need to give the Ministry yet another reason to want to kill us. Not many people know it, except those on the inside."

Harry turned on the couch to stare at Remus, the anger that flared to life in him burning any confusion he felt to ashes. "When were you going to tell me?"

Remus finally met Harry's gaze, and Harry wasn't sure what he saw in Remus' eyes, but he didn't like it one bit. 

"After you defeated Voldemort," Remus said, his voice oddly composed.

"How long?" Harry asked, clenching his hands into fists. "How long will I live?"

"The oldest known werewolf lived for almost five hundred years," Patrick said. Remus nodded a quiet agreement. 

Slowly, Harry turned to stare at Sirius. "You knew? You knew all along?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, his shoulders hunched. 

A cold wave of pain and desperation extinguished the fire inside Harry, and he jumped up from the couch, his legs trembling and his knees buckling. "You knew," he said, his voice cracking. "You knew you will die. You knew you will leave me."

Sirius closed his eyes and sat completely still, his chest not even rising or falling. 

"Don't worry, puppy," Ivan said, far too cheerfully. "In this room, immortality is just one bite away."

Harry whipped around on his feet and stared at Ivan. "Do it!" he yelled, pointing a finger at Sirius. "Turn him!"

Ivan looked taken aback. "Well, I was referring to Patrick taking a bite out of him during the next full moon. I've never been one to condemn random people to eternal life, you know."

"No," Sirius said, getting to his feet as well. "There will be no biting or turning." He met Harry's gaze and Harry was shocked by the amount of pain he saw in Sirius' blue eyes. "I can't live that long, Harry. One lifetime is enough for me."

"Right," Harry said, his mind spinning with feelings of dejection and betrayal. "You'll just die on me."

"It's not like that," Sirius said, his voice getting desperate. "You'll have Moony."

Harry glanced at Remus, who had his face buried in his hands. "But I won't have you," he whispered, not looking at Sirius though he could hear Sirius' ragged breathing beside him.

"You've always known there's a good chance I'll die before you do," Sirius tried. "I'm older."

Harry resisted the urge to stomp his feet. "Two bloody decades. Not centuries!"

"Puppy, it's something you'll have to learn to live with," Ivan said matter-of-factly. "I could tell you about his lovely mortal I was seeing back in the nineteenth century. He died of tuberculosis and he refused to let me turn him. You have to respect –"

"SHUT IT!" Harry pushed past Ivan and ran out of the room. He rushed up the stairs, unsure where to go, but he knew he had to get away from those bloody traitors. He thought about leaving the house, but then realized that he had nowhere else to go, so he locked himself in the bathroom. 

As he opened the taps to splash cold water in his face, he didn't look at himself in the mirror.

Sirius was going to leave him and there was nothing Harry could do about it. Sirius knew he was going to die and he didn't even care enough about Harry to stop it. 

Harry yanked the cabinet beside the sink open, searching for something but what exactly he didn't know. Until he found a vial and thought that provided escape enough for now. 

Dreamless Sleep Potion. Harry grabbed the vial and hurried towards his bedroom. He shed his clothes, crawled under the covers and downed the potion. Perhaps when he woke the next morning it all turned out to be nothing but a bad dream.

*~*~*~*~*

Morning came too soon, and as Harry peeled his eyes open, fighting the fog of sleep that slowly cleared from his mind, he thought perhaps it all had been a dream.

It wasn't Monday yet, it was still Sunday, and in a moment Sirius would wake up and tease him and then Remus would tease Sirius and they'd end up kissing and fucking and those things would never, ever change. 

Harry heard Remus' quiet, even breaths on his right and turned to look at Sirius. 

But Sirius wasn't there. 

Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes. By the look of things, Sirius hadn't been there at all. His pillow showed no sign of a head having rumpled it throughout the night, and the covers were smooth. Harry reached for his glasses, slid them on and saw something on Sirius' pillow. 

A note. 

A tiny scrap of parchment covered with Sirius' handwriting. 

Harry picked it up, licked his dry lips and read it. 

_Harry,_

_I know there is only one way I can make this right for you. I should have done this a lot sooner, instead of hiding like a coward and letting the world attack you time and again._

_I should have told you the truth, I know that, but sometimes it's easier not to say anything at all, to pretend things will always stay the same._

_I have to do this, Harry. For you, for Remus, for James and your mother. I should have done this a long time ago, but I'll amend it. I promised you'd get a good life, and I'll keep that promise._

_Don't come looking for me. Promise me, Harry. Perhaps I'll make it back. And if not, then at least I'll have taken a few pieces of scum with me._

_Take care of Remus for me. He'll probably say I'm a stubborn, blithering idiot, and he won't be too far off the mark._

_I've been an idiot. But not anymore._

_Sirius_

Harry swallowed and read the note again, sure he had misread it the first time. But the words were still there and they still didn't make much sense, except that Sirius sounded like he was saying goodbye. 

Clutching the note in his hand, Harry jumped up from the bed and yanked the wardrobe open. Sirius kept his invisibility cloak there, but no matter how many robes and shirts and trousers Harry pulled out, he couldn't find the cloak. 

"Sirius?" Harry yelled, leaving the clothes scattered across the floor as he threw the door open and stepped into the hallway. "Sirius?"

No reply came and Harry rushed down the stairs, convinced Sirius was in the kitchen making them breakfast. "Sirius?"

But Sirius wasn't in the kitchen, nor the library or the drawing room. "Sirius?" Harry tried again, louder and more desperate. Sirius couldn't have left him. Sirius wouldn't just run out on him and Remus, now would he?

"Sirius!" Harry yelled, standing in the hallway. Still, no reply came and Harry spun around on his feet, but Sirius wasn't standing behind him, ready to surprise him with a hug and a kiss. Harry turned again and saw the massive front door. 

If Sirius had left, Harry had to find him. What if the Ministry found him before Harry did? Or worse, what if Voldemort did?

Harry turned the doorknob, yanked the door open and ran into streams of sunlight that blinded him. 

A strong arm curled around his waist and pulled him right back inside the house.


	23. Chapter 22

Harry looked over his shoulder and expected to stare into Sirius' blue eyes. But instead he saw Patrick's brown ones and immediately tried to push Patrick's arm away. Patrick proved stronger and dragged Harry further inside the hallway. 

"Lad!" Patrick squeezed around Harry's waist to get his attention. "What do you think you're doing running outside starkers?"

Inhaling a shaky breath, Harry relaxed somewhat and glanced at Patrick again, confused this time. And then he realized he was naked. He didn't even have his wand. 

"Sirius," he gasped, and as he looked around the hallway he saw Remus standing near the staircase, and Ivan crouching halfway up the stairs, holding an arm over his face to block out the daylight. 

"Harry, what's going on?" Remus asked, taking a few steps towards Harry. Patrick released Harry and threw the front door shut with a bang. 

"It's Sirius," Harry said, staring up at Remus. If anyone knew where Sirius was, it would be Remus, Harry thought. He held up the crumpled note. "He wasn't in bed. Where's he off to?"

"What?" Remus grabbed the note, straightened the parchment and read it. Patrick joined him and looked at the note over Remus' shoulder while Harry worried his lip and waited anxiously for Remus to tell him Sirius had picked that moment to play a prank on them or had decided it was suddenly time to clean the attic. 

"God, no," Remus said, lowering the note. He glanced around the hallway, much like Harry had done only moments before. "Sirius? Padfoot!"

"He isn't here," Harry whispered, and was shocked he'd actually said it aloud. 

"Dogboy gone missing?" Ivan asked, looking at them curiously from his spot on the stairs.

"Seems like," Patrick said, glancing from Ivan to Remus and then to Harry.

"My cloak. He took my invisibility cloak." Harry stared up at Remus and tried not to notice how pale Remus looked. 

"I heard him leave a couple of hours ago," Ivan said casually. 

Harry snapped his gaze up and narrowed his eyes. "You what? And you didn't stop him?"

Ivan looked affronted. "Why should I stop him? He's a grown man. If he wants to take a stroll at night I'm not going to keep him from it."

"He's a fugitive!" Harry yelled, slowly advancing on Ivan, who in turn got to his feet and descended the stairs. 

"And thus the resident vampire has to keep him locked up? I think not." Ivan halted in front of Harry and looked down at him over his nose. Harry met his gaze and wondered why he'd never seen before how little humanity there was in Ivan's cold eyes. 

"You could've woken us up!"

"To tell you what? Dogboy went out for a pack of fags?"

"He doesn't smoke!" Harry didn't think he'd ever felt this frustrated before. Or this angry. If only Ivan had alerted them, they could've stopped Sirius. It was Ivan's fault Sirius was gone now, that Sirius had left him. Not sure what he was doing, Harry slammed his fist down on Ivan's bare chest, and again, and again.

"You want to fight me, puppy?" Ivan said, easily catching Harry's wrists and stilling his hands. "It's not me you should be fighting, you know."

"Stop it, lad," Patrick said, gripping the back of Harry's neck with strong fingers. This close to the full moon, Harry had no choice but to let his wolf obey, and he took a step back from Ivan, his body stiffening while he stared at the floor.

"I'll contact Dumbledore," Remus said, his voice constricted. 

Harry looked up at him and couldn't believe that was all Remus came up with. He pulled away from Patrick's grip and clenched his jaws. 

"And then what?" he yelled, pushing himself up against Remus. "We should go looking for him, right now!"

"And get ourselves killed?" Remus replied, his voice louder than usual. "We need to get word out to Kingsley, Tonks and Moody, in case the Ministry does catch Sirius. Stop being so difficult, Harry!"

Harry's mouth dropped open. "I'm not the one being difficult!"

Ivan suppressed a snort of laughter and exchanged a knowing glance with Patrick. 

"I'm not!" Harry insisted, glaring between the three men. "I just want to do something before Sirius gets himself...before he..." Harry couldn't finish his sentence and pushed Ivan out of the way so he could run up the stairs.

*~*~*~*~*

"I believe it is best if we don't go after Sirius at this moment," Dumbledore said, glancing down at the note in his hand. "He might still come to his senses and return on his own."

Harry gritted his teeth. He sat at the kitchen table, dressed and wand in hand, ready to go to battle. Anything to get Sirius back, but Dumbledore was telling him not to. And what was Dumbledore doing with that note, anyway? Harry resisted the urge to snatch it from his hands. Sirius had left that note to him, after all. Dumbledore had no business with it. 

"I think Albus is right," Remus said. Harry glared at him and couldn't believe Remus didn't want to do anything. He glanced at Patrick and secretly wished Patrick would interfere and call Remus a coward for not wanting to rescue Sirius. 

Patrick caught Harry's stare and gave a brief nod. "I agree with them, lad. It's too early to be thinking of doom scenarios just yet."

"Sirius is a gifted wizard who can fend for himself," Dumbledore said, offering Harry a small smile. "I suggest we wait until sundown. If he hasn't returned by then, we'll discuss how to retrieve him. In the meantime, I'll notify Kingsley to keep an eye out for him, in case the Ministry learns of Sirius' whereabouts."

And with that, Dumbledore pushed himself up and walked towards the fireplace. "You're excused from classes today, Harry. I'll contact you again tonight. If anything comes up, I'll be in my office."

"Thank you, Albus," Remus said. 

As Dumbledore disappeared in a burst of green flames, Harry kicked against the closest table leg in frustration. His cup of tea spilled across the table, but Harry couldn't care less.

"Where do you think he's off to?" Patrick asked Remus, who ran a tired hand across his face. 

"The Malfoys, possibly. Pettigrew, most certainly," Remus said, staring down at the table. 

"But if he goes after Wormtail, Voldemort will – "

"Not necessarily," Remus interrupted Harry, who heaved a frustrated sigh. "We don't know where Wormtail is hiding out."

"Relax, puppy," Ivan said, leaning back in his chair and looking as if nothing was wrong. "You know what they say about dogs. They always find their way home."

"Fuck you!" Harry snapped, and jumped up. He was still pissed off at Ivan for not stopping Sirius when he had the chance, and he wasn't going to sit there and listen to Ivan's pathetic comments. 

"Harry," Remus started, rising from his seat. 

"Don't worry, I won't go anywhere," Harry said with venom in his voice. "I'll just be a good boy and wait here, like all you bloody cowards."

Remus looked taken aback, his cheeks paling, but Harry didn't care and stomped out of the kitchen in search of a quiet spot where he could think of a way to get Sirius back, should he fall into Voldemort's hands.

*~*~*~*~*

The library was empty when Harry entered it, and no one joined him as he tried to get through the hours until sundown. He stared at the blackboard for a while, reading the texts Remus had written on it a few weeks before.

How was he supposed to rescue Sirius if he still didn't know how to defeat Voldemort? Harry paged through the pieces of parchment on the table, and every time he saw Sirius' handwriting something tightened inside of him. At last he found his own sheet of notes, the one he'd started when he'd decided to find an answer once and for all. 

The most prominent word on the parchment was 'connection,' and as Harry thought back over everything that had happened in the past few months he realized his best chance at defeating Voldemort was probably through their connection. Even Dumbledore had hinted at it a while back. 

But how?

Harry leaned back in his chair and rubbed across the scar on his forehead. He could touch Voldemort in the white room. Problem was, Voldemort could also touch him, and so unless Harry got a good idea of what he should do, chances were Voldemort might hurt him before he could do what he had to do. 

As the clock on the mantel ticked the seconds away and chimed on every hour, Harry was starting to have trouble breathing as he looked through note after note and paged through the many books gathered on the table, and found nothing that gave him the answers he needed. 

And then, a few hours before sundown, a loud crack sounded in the hallway. 

Harry jumped to his feet and flew out of the room, expecting Sirius to have returned at last. 

But it wasn't Sirius who looked at him. It was Kingsley, holding something that looked vaguely familiar.

"Where's the rest?" Kingsley asked. 

Harry swallowed. "Dunno. Kitchen, I think."

Kingsley nodded and descended the stairs. Harry followed him, unsure what else to do and too curious to hide out in the library again. They did find the rest in the kitchen, and Harry avoided Remus' eyes as he sat down at the table. 

"I have news," Kingsley said. He stood at the head of the table and slowly unraveled what he was holding bunched up in his hands. 

It was Harry's invisibility cloak. One side of it was torn, as if a beast had shredded it with sharp claws. And as the delicate fabric spilled over the table, Harry saw a crimson mark painted on the other half. 

The Dark Mark. 

"That's blood," Ivan said, for once not looking as if all was well in the world. Harry held his breath as Ivan leaned over and dragged a finger over the red mark. He sucked it into his mouth, and then gave a nod. 

"God," Remus gasped. 

"No, dogboy," Ivan said with a grave look. 

"Where did you find it?" Patrick asked, putting his hand on Remus' arm. 

"Near Malfoy Manor," Kingsley said. "It was out in the open. They wanted us to find it."

"A message," Ivan guessed, and Kingsley nodded in response. 

"I told you!" Harry yelled, pushing his chair back. All the frustration he'd felt that day burst into an explosion of anger inside of him. It pushed at his temples and made his teeth clatter. "I told you bloody Voldemort would get to him!"

"Harry, calm down," Kingsley said, looking unimpressed by Harry's outburst. "I don't think they've killed Sirius. They would have left his body for us to find if they had."

Harry's stomach turned at those words and he slowly sank back in his chair, his legs unable to support him. He looked at Remus, but Remus was staring at the table, his face oddly blank. 

"I believe Voldemort is trying to draw you out, Harry, and he's using Sirius as bait." Kingsley shook his head. "I'll get Dumbledore –"

"If he wants me, he can have me!" Harry leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was too overwhelmed with rage to wonder if this was a good idea or not. All he knew was he wanted to confront Voldemort about this. About Sirius. With so much hate bubbling inside of him, it was easy to find the connection and force it open. 

Harry found himself in the white room again, and stared at Voldemort, who gave him an amused smile. 

"I assume you got my present, Harry?"

"You," Harry started, his breathing ragged. "You let him go. Right now. Or I'll –"

"Or you'll what?" Voldemort tilted his head. "Kill me? Please, let's keep this conversation realistic."

Clenching his hands into fists, Harry took a step towards Voldemort. "I will. I'll kill you."

"And how are you going to do that?" Voldemort spread his arms, as if he were inviting Harry to give it his best shot. 

Harry gritted his teeth and glanced around the room. There was nothing there. If it came to it, there wasn't even a room. He reached inside his pocket for his wand, and then realized it wasn't there, either. 

Releasing a string of laughter, Voldemort lowered his arms and closed in on Harry. "If you believe you can hurt me, kill me, in here, you are even more incompetent than I always thought you were, Harry."

Harry raised his fist with the intention of slamming it against Voldemort's face. But what good would that do? He had no wand. There was no magic in this room for all he knew. He wouldn't be able to kill Voldemort in here. And even if he did, that wouldn't bring Sirius back. 

"I want Sirius back," Harry finally said, his fist still raised.

"Yes, I thought you would," Voldemort said, crossing his arms. "You can have him back. In exchange for your life."

Harry snorted and wanted to tell Voldemort he could go fuck himself, but a surge of pain ripped through his body. Familiar pain, as if he were about to transform. As if Blue was trying to claw his way out of Harry. 

"What's the matter, Harry? Are you too much of a coward to sacrifice yourself to save your godfather's life?"

The pain became unbearable and Harry was forced to squeeze his eyes shut. Why was he transforming there? But he wasn't, because nothing happened. Blue was there, but couldn't come out, or so it seemed. 

"No," Harry gasped. "I'm not a coward."

"Then all you have to do is come visit me, and Black will live." Voldemort took a step back and gave Harry an expectant look. 

"All right," Harry said, not sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew he had to agree to something to keep Sirius alive. 

"Good. We'll talk again soon." Voldemort turned and left through a door, _his door_ , and Harry was left wondering where he was and why he felt Blue inside of him and how he could ever get Sirius back when Voldemort wanted his life in return. 

The anger morphed into confusion and despair, and Harry stepped through his own door and was back in the darkness of his mind. 

"Harry?" 

"Yeah," Harry whispered, blinking his eyes open and staring into Remus' face. "He wants me in return."

"We heard," Remus said, and helped Harry to sit up. Harry looked around and realized he'd ended up on the kitchen floor. Dumbledore was there, as was Moody, and in the corner Duncan, Fred and George gave him a worried look. Patrick and Ivan were crouching around him, and Patrick squeezed his shoulder as Harry inhaled a few deep breaths. 

"I'll call for an Order meeting tonight," Dumbledore said. "In the meantime, I'll see if I can convince Fudge to offer his support to our cause. Are you coming, Alastor?"

Moody nodded and followed Dumbledore out of the kitchen, his wooden leg clunking on the stairs. 

"I don't know how to kill him," Harry whispered, glancing up at Remus. "How can I save Sirius when I don't know how to kill Voldemort?"

"Harry," Remus said, running a hand through Harry's hair. "You're not alone."

"But I have to kill Voldemort. You said so yourself."

Remus pursed his lips and glanced at Patrick, who gave a half-shrug. "Yes, I've said that. But circumstances change. If we go after Sirius now, you won't be alone in this, Harry. We'll all be right there with you."

Harry nodded, but still didn't see how that made up for the fact that he had no clue how to get rid of Voldemort. But he felt too exhausted to object, the frustration and anger he'd felt all day having drained him of his energy, leaving his limbs numb and his head aching. 

"I think we could all use a drink," Patrick said, and got to his feet. 

"Yes, perhaps we could." Remus got up as well and offered Harry his hand. Harry accepted it and let Remus pull him to his feet. They followed Patrick out of the kitchen. 

When they reached the staircase, the twins halted. 

"We'll go upstairs to make a few more hex-grenades," George said. 

"In case...you know..." Fred added with a shrug. They each gave Harry a hesitant smile and then disappeared up the stairs. 

Harry stared after them and realized they weren't going to get Sirius back without a fight. A battle. A war. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, and entered the drawing room where he took a seat beside Ivan on the couch. Duncan sat down on his other side, and Harry watched quietly as Patrick filled glasses with Firewhisky and Remus paced in front of the fireplace. 

"Here you go," Patrick said, levitating the drinks towards the couch. Harry took his and stared at it for a moment. 

"I'm not much of a drinker, you know," Duncan said, looking at his glass with a frown. 

"I think you'll need it," Harry muttered, and bravely sipped his own liquor. It burned his throat, which was good, because it got rid of the odd, thick feeling in his mouth. 

"Remus, sit down and have a drink with us," Patrick said, lowering himself into one of the leather chairs. 

Shaking his head, Remus kept pacing. It started to make Harry dizzy, though that could also be the whiskey going to his head. 

"Remus," Patrick said again, more threateningly this time. 

Remus snapped his head up and glared at Patrick, his face an open book with emotions written out in clear words. Harry worried his lip; he'd never seen that expression on Remus' face before, and he wasn't quite sure how it made him feel. 

"I can't do this again," Remus whispered, finally standing still. He lowered his head. "I can't lose him again."

"You're not losing anyone," Patrick said, sloshing his whiskey around in his glass. "And you've got your pup. You've got to be strong for him."

Remus' eyes narrowed, and Harry was shocked to see how much they resembled Moony's at that moment. "And what do you know about pups, Patrick? What do you know about being there for your pup?"

Slowly rising to his feet, Patrick narrowed his eyes as well. "Don't give me this now, Remus. We've been over this before, many a time."

"You know nothing," Remus spat, his shoulders going rigid as Patrick advanced on him. "You know nothing about losing your pack, so don't you tell me what I can or cannot do!"

"I lost you!" Patrick bellowed. Even though Remus was the taller one of the two, Patrick seemed to be towering over him. "You ran out on me, like a coward with your tail stuck between your legs. Don't you tell me I don't know what it's like to lose your pack, because I know exactly what it feels like!"

Harry shrank back in the couch and glanced up at Ivan, who looked down at him, managed a small smile, and slid his arm around Harry's shoulder. On his other side, Duncan pressed closer as well, and Harry sat sandwiched between two cool bodies, idly wondering why the scene in front of him made him feel like the world was falling apart. 

"Don't worry, puppy," Ivan whispered. "They just need to get it over with. This has been a long time in the making."

"That was your own fault!" Remus raised his voice, and it made Harry want to whimper and curl up.

"Was it?" Patrick asked, his voice softer now. "What did I do that was so wrong, Remus? Standing up for our rights as human beings?"

"Taking unnecessary risks," Remus hissed, his whole body tense. 

"No," Patrick countered. "I didn't take risks. I refused to let people treat me like a leper, like a danger to society. I refused to deny what I am, unlike you."

"You could've got yourself killed! Or others!"

Patrick stepped closer to Remus, his expression losing most of the tension and his eyes warmer now. He gently touched Remus' cheek. "How can you expect people to treat you like a human, when all you do is act the part of an outcast? How do you expect to ever win this battle, when all you do is run away from it?"

"I don't run away," Remus said, his shoulders squared, but Harry could see his hands trembling and his mouth twitching. 

"You've been on the run all your life. But you can't run away from yourself. You can't ignore what you are."

Remus lowered his gaze, his graying hair obscuring his face. "I can't lose him again," he whispered in a quivering voice. "I'll do anything. Anything."

"Stop running, Remus," Patrick said, and pulled Remus close. Remus tucked his head under Patrick's chin, clinging to him, and Patrick wrapped his arms around Remus and held him tight. 

Harry watched them, everything Patrick had said swirling through his mind, trying to find a logical spot where it would make sense. Had Remus really been running away from what he was? Had he?

"All right, that's quite enough," Ivan said in a bored tone. "Or else I'm eloping with the puppy."

Snorting, Harry looked up at Ivan. "I'm not wearing the dress, if that's what you think," he blurted, caught off guard by Ivan's ridiculous proposal. 

Ivan chuckled. "Aren't you a cheeky little fellow."

Pulling back from each other, Patrick and Remus looked at them, Patrick with a wide grin and Remus with a tentative smile. 

"And here I thought I'd never see the day you'd be jealous," Patrick said. 

Ivan huffed. "I'm not jealous, love."

Snickering, Harry glanced at Remus, and fell silent. 

"Harry," Remus said. It sounded inviting, so Harry got up from the couch and shuffled towards Remus. 

"Remus," he said, unsure what else to say. Remus did nothing for a moment, and then he grabbed Harry in a tight embrace. Harry returned it and inhaled Remus' soothing sent. 

"We're going to get him back, aren't we?" Harry whispered. 

"Yes," Remus said, his voice thick with determination. "Yes, we are."

*~*~*~*~*

The Order members arrived early in the evening and filed into the kitchen. Harry noticed that, as they spoke of the day's events, they lowered their voices whenever they spotted him standing in a corner

Harry felt restless, his body twitching at any unexpected sound. Everyone of the Order was there. Harry was pleasantly surprised when he even saw McGonagall enter. She gave him a curt nod and the tiniest of smiles, and while Harry didn't feel like smiling, he did return the nod. 

Remus stayed close to him, and Harry was glad he did. He wasn't sure what made him feel the most uneasy; the wolf present so strongly with the full moon only two days away, the two drinks of firewhisky he'd had, or the fact that Sirius' life was at stake. 

"Everyone, please be seated, so we can start this meeting," Dumbledore said, and lowered himself in a chair at the head of the table. 

Not looking at any of the others assembled, Harry sat down between Remus and Patrick, while Ivan took a seat opposite them, Duncan sliding in a chair beside him. 

Dumbledore gave a brief retelling of what had happened, and Harry had to swallow against something bitter rising from his stomach when Dumbledore spread the torn invisibility cloak over the table. 

"Voldemort has captured Sirius. We must now find a way to get him back," Dumbledore said with a grave nod. "Harry has already had contact with Voldemort, and it's clear Voldemort will only trade Sirius' life for Harry's."

"Harry's had contact with...but how?" Mrs Weasley asked. Harry absently rubbed across his forehead, and Mrs Weasley clapped a hand over her mouth, looking shocked. 

"How do you propose we get Black back?" Moody grumbled. "Is one man's life worth risking dozens over?"

"Yes, it is," Harry said, glaring at Moody, who immediately whipped his magical eye in Harry's direction. 

"A war comes with sacrifices," Moody said, narrowing his normal eye. 

"I'm going after him." Harry tried to keep his voice steady as he leaned forward in his chair, his gaze darting from one Order member to the next. "I don't care if you're all too cowardly to take action. That won't stop me from going after Sirius. Alone, if I have to."

Moody wanted to reply, but Remus cut him off. "You won't be going alone, Harry. I'll be going with you."

"As will I," Patrick said, tilting his head as he gave Moody a defiant glare. 

"And me, too," Duncan said in a small voice. Ivan gave him a incredulous look, heaved a sigh, and then looked at Harry. 

"I'll be there, puppy. And my clan will be there as well."

"We're going," George said, as Fred gave a few nods. 

"And me," Bill added, ignoring Mrs Weasley's sharp intake of breath. 

There was silence for a moment, and then Snape cleared his throat. "Mr Potter has my assistance, if he believes it necessary."

Harry's mouth dropped open, and all he could do was give Snape a very slow nod. 

"Well said, Severus," McGonagall said. "I'll be joining Mr Potter as well, and I have been given authority to inform you that Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Hooch are also willing to join Harry's side."

"Me, too," Mundungus said, and looked at Mrs Weasley. "Black's always treated me with respect."

Kingsley licked his lips, glanced at Tonks, and then stared at Moody. "I'm in. It's my job to keep Black safe, after all."

Smiling, Tonks put her hand on Kingsley's arm. "Me, too. He's family."

More hands shot up, and more voices gave their consent, and Harry had trouble breathing as he glanced at Remus. 

"Thank you for your votes," Dumbledore said. "We'll need all of your support. Fudge made it perfectly clear this afternoon he has no intention of sending any Aurors to Sirius' rescue."

"Let's get to the point," Snape said, looking as if so many people agreeing on something Harry had suggested made him physically ill. "We need a plan."

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Yes, we do."

"It would not be wise to send Potter into Voldemort's lair. Voldemort will not be alone, and when surrounded by at least two dozen Death Eaters, Potter doesn't stand a chance."

"Then what do you suggest?" Dumbledore asked. 

"Polyjuice?" Remus said before Snape could say anything. Snape snapped his gaze at Remus and gave a slow nod. 

"Polyjuice is certainly a possibility, and I have no qualms about disguising myself as Potter. However, that leaves the problem of an escort. Voldemort expects me to lead Potter into his lair."

"I can polyjuice into you," Bill offered, giving Snape an uncertain glance. 

"I suppose you could, but you are not an Occlumens and Voldemort will see right through you." Snape heaved a sigh. "Potter is a sufficient enough Occlumens, but we're trying to keep him out of this particular situation." Pursing his lips, Snape looked at Dumbledore. 

"You are correct, Severus," Dumbledore said. "I myself am a skilled enough Occlumens, but I do believe my assistance could be put to better use elsewhere during this operation."

There was silence for a moment, and Harry frowned as he tried to think of a solution. He had no problem confronting Voldemort – anything to get Sirius back – but he did realize Snape was right. In a room full of Death Eaters, it would be bloody hard to take any sort of shot at Voldemort. 

He was about to suggest going with Snape anyway, but Ivan cleared his throat and stared at Snape with a tilt of his head. 

"This Occlumens business...this is used to keep someone else from taking a little peek into your mind, am I right?"

"Yes, but I don't see how this is of any concern to you," Snape said, eyes narrowed. 

Ivan ignored him. "And the Legilimens thing is used for looking into your mind. As I understand it, Voldemort can do this Legilimens thing to determine if he's looking at the real Harry Potter."

Snape gave a sharp nod, and Harry held his breath as he stared at Ivan. 

Ivan's lips curved up into a sly grin, his fangs glistening in the candle light. "Use your magic on me, then. Let the old snake try to take a peek into my mind."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Oh god," he said. "That's brilliant."

"What are you two yammering about?" Snape demanded. 

"Father Christmas there said so himself," Ivan said, waving at Dumbledore. "There isn't a wizard strong enough to control my mind."

"Of course," Dumbledore said, his face lighting up, and he gave Ivan a bright smile. "Of course! Voldemort won't have any idea what hit him. It's the perfect distraction." He turned to Snape, and managed to tone down his smile somewhat. "Can you alter the Polyjuice potion so it will work on Mr Storkavic?"

Snape finally seemed to be catching on, and for a moment Harry thought he saw a smile dance around Snape's lips. "Yes, I'm quite sure I can. It shouldn't take too many alterations to make it work on a vampire."

"Good. We have our first distraction in place," Dumbledore said. He wanted to say more, but Moody cut in. 

"So we have one distraction, we sneak Potter in through a backdoor, but that still leaves Snape and the vampire alone surrounded by dozens of lethal Dark Wizards."

"Ahem," George said, clearing his throat. "That's where our hex-grenades come in."

"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore said, giving the twins a curious look. 

"We've invented the hex-grenade," Fred said, shifting in his seat, as if confessing to one of the many pranks they'd played in school. 

"Perhaps you should show them," Remus said, offering the twins a small smile. "Give them a demonstration of what your hex-grenades can do, exactly."

"Right." George got up, nodding. 

"Follow us," Fred said, also rising to his feet. The Order members followed the twins out of the kitchen, appearing hesitant and curious, and in Snape's case, protesting loudly they had no time for the twins' idiotic merchandise.

Harry stayed seated, as did Remus, Patrick, Ivan and Duncan. Harry had no interest in seeing a room full of dead mice again, and he supposed the others felt the same way. 

They stayed silent for a moment, Harry looking anywhere but at Ivan, as he realized what Ivan had just offered to do. Finally, he looked at Ivan from under his lashes. 

"Thanks," he said softly. 

Ivan tilted his head, but said nothing. 

"For offering to be me and go to Voldemort in my place."

"You're welcome," Ivan said, looking as if he expected Harry to say more. 

Harry sighed. "I've been a real ass to you today, haven't I?"

"You could say that," Ivan said, amused. 

"I'm sorry for that," Harry said, and returned Ivan's generous smile with a hesitant one. 

"Don't worry about it, puppy. I'm used to taking the blame for things I had nothing to do with. Comes with the whole undead package."

Harry nodded and stared down at the tabletop again. More silence followed, interrupted by a loud explosion coming from the other side of the house. It shook the kitchen, a thin layer of plaster raining down from the ceiling. 

"Seems that those grenades still work," Patrick said, and poured himself more coffee. 

"Yes, it seems so," Remus said absently. 

A few moments later, the Order members returned to the kitchen, looking shocked, and in Moody's case, excited. 

"Those bastards won't stand a chance," Moody said, looking as if they'd already won the battle. "If Snape throws one of them things between those Death Eaters, loaded with a Killing Curse, there won't be a war!"

"Am I now expected to sacrifice my own life to rescue that cur?" Snape asked, a healthy dose of sarcasm seeping through his words. 

"Alastor's idea isn't such a terrible one," Dumbledore said, reclaiming his seat at the head of the table. "You can disapparate before it goes off, and a Killing Curse won't hurt Mr Storkavic."

"Or you could load it with a Stunning spell," Fred said in a small voice. He and George were avoiding Mrs Weasley's gaze, who looked as if her sons had just committed a terrible crime. 

"We'll see," Snape said vaguely. "When is all of this to take place?"

"Tomorrow," Harry said, before anyone else could speak. 

"That won't work, darling," Ivan said. "With the club gone, my clan's spread out across Britain. They can only travel by night. They won't be here until late tomorrow night, I'm afraid."

"Fuck," Harry said, which earned him a nervous giggle from Tonks.

"So we do it Wednesday," Moody said in a tone of voice that left no room for discussion. 

Harry stared at the table. Wednesday was the full moon, and he had no idea if he could take on Voldemort when he was in his wolf form. Then again, he didn't need his wand in the white room, and Harry was quite sure whatever was going to happen would take place in there. 

"Thursday?" Duncan offered quietly.

"No," Ivan said in an equally soft voice. "They'll be too weak Thursday."

"Fuck," Harry said again, leaning his forehead on his hands. 

"Language, Mr Potter," McGonagall scolded, though there was little authority in her voice. 

"What's wrong with Wednesday?" Moody demanded. 

Dozens of voices were yelling inside Harry's mind, and they sounded like Remus, Sirius, Patrick, Ivan, Hermione, Dumbledore, and even Snape. They all told him something different; don't say anything, think about the risks, think about the consequences, you should not be hiding who you are, stop running, Harry. Stop running. 

Harry pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "I've had enough of all these secrets," he said, as everyone looked at him in confusion. Well, almost everyone. Patrick looked rather proud, and Remus appeared not to know whether to look anxious or relieved. 

"I'm a werewolf. Yes, Remus infected me, and yes, it was an accident. If anyone has a problem with that," he pointed over his shoulder, "there's the door. And if anyone dares to take this to the Ministry, you'll have to answer to me. And my wand." 

Pursing his lips, Harry lowered himself to his chair, and finally dared to look at the others. Most looked understandably shocked, but there were no disgusted expressions, for which Harry was grateful. Dumbledore looked at Harry with twinkling eyes and nodded once. 

"But how?" Mrs Weasley said desperately, both hands clapped over her mouth. "And you knew this?" she added to Dumbledore. 

"Yes, we knew," McGonagall said in her best classroom voice. "There is nothing we can do about it now, and Harry has more important things to concentrate on at this moment than any misplaced sympathy."

"Thank you, Minerva," Dumbledore said, while Snape was sipping his tea with determination. Harry still saw the corners of his mouth twitch.

"Harry, do you believe you'll be able to go to battle on Wednesday?" Dumbledore asked. 

Harry glanced at Remus. Placing his hand on Harry's under the table, Remus smiled. 

"Yeah, I think I can," Harry said, glancing back at Dumbledore. 

"Good. We go to battle on Wednesday," Dumbledore said. "If you could both inform your clans and ask them to assemble here tomorrow?" Dumbledore looked at Patrick and Ivan, who nodded in response. 

"Then I think we should continue this meeting here tomorrow, and for now call it a night."

"But how will Harry be able to take on Voldemort all by himself?" Tonks asked. 

"Oh, I believe we should leave that to Harry," Dumbledore replied, giving Harry a peculiar smile. He got up from his seat, and most of the others followed his example. Mrs Weasley shuffled past Harry's chair, looking as if she wanted to say something to Harry, but Mr Weasley ushered her towards the door. He briefly put his hand on Harry's shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and then they left. 

Harry released a deep breath, and thought that given the circumstances, things hadn't gone too badly. 

"Harry," Dumbledore said, standing behind Harry's chair. "I'd like to ask you to attend your classes tomorrow."

"But, sir," Harry objected, thinking he really didn't feel like sitting through a whole school day while they should be planning the battle. 

"Miss Granger asked me to inform you she has information she'd like to share with you," Dumbledore said with a meaningful look. "I do believe it's best if you come to school tomorrow."

"Oh," Harry said, frowning. "All right."

"Good." Dumbledore turned around and left the kitchen alongside everyone else, until only Harry, Remus and their houseguests remained. 

"That went well," George said.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "I was sure Mum was going to skin us alive for those hex-grenades."

"Aye, that went well," Patrick said, sliding his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulling him closer. "Didn't it, Remus?"

Remus said nothing for a few seconds, and Harry stared at him in trepidation, wondering if he'd gone too far by announcing their secret like that.

And then finally, Remus said, "Yes, it went well." He leaned closer and gave Harry a soft kiss on his mouth. "Very well."

"You're not going, Duncan," Ivan said. 

"Dude, I'm like, so going," Duncan said, his voice trembling. 

"No, you're not," Ivan snapped, narrowing his eyes at Duncan, who shrank back in his chair. 

"I am, too. You can't stop me."

"I think I can. You're my Childe, Duncan. Don't you forget that. I won't have you fumbling about in a war. You'll end up staked. Or incinerated."

"Dude, I can fight," Duncan insisted, squaring his shoulders. 

Ivan raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Can you? Childe, you have problems biting a mortal even when they offer themselves to you. You stand no chance against magicians."

Duncan clenched his jaw. "And unless you give me a chance, I'll never learn it, either," he muttered. 

"You're not going." Ivan crossed his arms. 

"I am, too," Duncan spat. 

"It's been a long day," Patrick said in an obvious attempt to keep the peace. "I think we can all use some rest."

Harry, who'd been watching the exchange between Ivan and Duncan with his mouth open, glanced at Remus. 

"You're right," Remus said, rising to his feet. "We could all do with some sleep." Then he fell silent, and Harry realized he was staring at the table filled with empty cups and glasses. 

Sirius always did the washing up. 

Harry closed his eyes and a surge of longing, of needing, made his skin shiver. 

"We'll wash up," Fred said, his voice carrying a cheerful edge that didn't sound completely honest. 

"Yeah, you all go to bed. We'll take care of this," George added. 

"I'll help. I don't mind washing up," Duncan said, making his way to the sink. 

"Mate, we use magic for that," Fred said to Duncan in a hushed voice. 

"Far out. Because, like, I really don't like washing up all that much," Duncan confessed. 

"Thank you," Remus said quietly. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and Harry accepted the silent invitation and got to his feet. They made their way out of the kitchen, and up the stairs, Patrick and Ivan trailing right behind them. 

"Will you two be all right?" Patrick asked in the upstairs hallway. 

"Yes, I think we will be," Remus answered, and Harry nodded. 

"We'll see you in the morning. Try to get some sleep." Patrick offered them one last warm smile and disappeared inside his bedroom. 

"Nighty night," Ivan said, though not in his usual teasing tone. He closed the door of their bedroom behind him, and Harry and Remus were left standing alone in the hallway. 

"After you," Remus said politely, gesturing to their own bedroom. 

Harry entered it, and tried not to notice the big, empty bed, or Sirius' boots lying under the desk, or Sirius' dirty robes piled up on the chair. There was so much of Sirius in this room, it made Harry's heart ache. He looked away, tried to find something that didn't remind him of Sirius, and saw Remus standing on the other side of the bed, looking just as lost and pained as he felt. 

"You're not angry, are you?" Harry asked in a subdued voice.

"Why should I be angry?"

"That I told everyone like that."

Remus' expression softened, the lines around his eyes fading. "No, Harry. I'm not angry. A bit shocked, perhaps. This is a novel experience for me. But I'm not angry with you."

"Okay." Harry toed off his shoes and socks and started on the buttons of his robes, and when he looked up a moment later he saw Remus standing in front of him. Remus looked as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. 

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, because he did know what Remus meant. Remus put his hand on Harry's shoulder, let it rest there for a moment, and then pulled Harry close. Harry wrapped his arms around Remus and squeezed, not ever wanting to let Remus go. Remus' lips brushed across Harry's forehead and temple, down his cheek, and finally found his mouth. They kissed, a brutal, desperate press of lips and tongue, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tried to feel as much as he could. 

Remus pulled back, slightly out of breath, and smiled. Harry returned it and felt better, as if one of the small uncertainties that had plagued him since that morning had vanished. 

"Let's get to bed," Remus said, running his hand through Harry's hair. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed, and they continued to undress in silence. Once they were lying in bed, Harry crawled close to Remus, who extinguished the gas lamp so they were shrouded in darkness. 

Harry listened to Remus' heartbeat, feeling Remus' warm skin under his cheek. The darkness made it difficult to ignore the thoughts he had been able to push aside all day. 

"It's my fault," he whispered. "I drove him away, didn't I?"

Remus stayed quiet for a moment, and then Harry felt movement, and the room was suddenly bathed in light when Remus turned the lamp on again. 

"No, you didn't," he said. "It's not your fault."

"But I yelled at him. I got so angry with both of you yesterday," Harry said, swallowing against something thick in his throat. 

"Harry, there's something you should understand about Sirius," Remus said. He swallowed as well, and sat up against the headboard. "Sirius has a hard time forgiving mistakes. Especially his own mistakes."

Harry frowned, not quite understanding what Remus was trying to say. 

"Last night, Sirius realized he'd made a mistake by not telling you sooner. He wasn't angry at you, Harry. He was angry at himself for making that mistake in the first place."

"Oh." Harry pushed himself up, leaning his cheek on Remus' shoulder. "But why would he do something like this just because he's angry?"

"It's...difficult." Remus stared down, a deep frown tugging on his brow. "I'm not sure if I should tell you this. Though, perhaps the time for keeping secrets has passed."

Harry nodded wordlessly. 

"After the Shack incident, I was angry at Sirius, as you already know. But I didn't stay angry forever. I love him. I could forgive him anything. And I did. About six months after the incident, I tried to get back together with him. But Sirius wouldn't have it."

"Huh?" Harry pulled away from Remus and stared at him in confusion. 

"Indeed," Remus said, nodding his head. "I had forgiven him, but Sirius refused to forgive himself for making that mistake. He didn't think he deserved to get back together with me. It was...a difficult time. I kept trying for a while, but the more I tried, the more I pushed him away. So in the end I decided that being friends with him was better than not having him in my life at all."

"He never...that's not how he told it," Harry said. 

"Honestly? I don't think he sees it that way. But I know him, Harry. What he did today wasn't just because of what happened last night. It was because he's never been able to forgive himself for making the switch with Peter. He's been blaming himself for your parents' deaths for sixteen years, and what he did today was an accumulation of all the things he's ever done wrong in his life."

"But it isn't his fault."

"I know that. You know that. But Sirius doesn't," Remus said with a sigh. "I thought he was doing better for a while. Being with us did have a good effect on him, I think. But last night he was reminded yet again of what a failure he's been, or that's what he must have thought. I'm not surprised by what he's done today. I'd just hoped that having you and me would enable him to move past that without throwing himself headfirst into battle."

Lowering himself to the mattress, Harry released a deep breath as he stared up at the ceiling. 

Remus followed his example, and Harry curled against him. They didn't speak, but Harry didn't think they had to. It was a long time before Harry finally closed his eyes and allowed sleep to come.

*~*~*~*~*

As Harry walked down the stairs the next morning, he was greeted by the smell of bacon and eggs. Remus had still been asleep when Harry'd woken up, and he decided to let Remus rest.

He pushed the kitchen door open and saw Ivan standing in front of the stove. 

"Morning, puppy. I thought you could do with a spot of breakfast."

Despite the ache he felt – Sirius always made him breakfast – Harry couldn't hold back a smile as he sat down at the table. 

"You don't have to do this," he said, though his stomach didn't quite agree and rumbled. 

"Nonsense." Ivan waved his comment away with a greasy ladle. "Growing boys such as yourself need the energy." He piled the contents of the frying pan on a plate, and served it to Harry. 

The bacon looked singed and the eggs were a few shades darker than Harry usually preferred them, but all in all, it didn't look that bad. 

"I'm afraid I am a bit out of practice," Ivan said, grinning. 

"It looks great, thanks," Harry said, and took a bite of his eggs. 

The door swung open and Patrick entered, taking the situation in before frowning. "Are you trying to kill the lad? Last time you cooked me breakfast, you gave me a severe case of food poisoning."

Ivan inhaled an offended breath, and Harry dropped his fork, wondering if it would be impolite to spit out his mouthful. 

Patrick stole a strip of bacon from Harry's plate, took a bite, and chewed thoughtfully. "This tastes all right. Shouldn't do you too much harm, lad."

"I'm not really all that hungry," Harry said after he managed to swallow. "I'm late for school, anyway."

Chuckling, Patrick yanked Harry's plate closer and picked up another strip of bacon. "I could've been a Slytherin," he said, at Harry's dumbfounded look. 

"You're so naughty, stealing that poor boy's breakfast right from under his nose," Ivan said, but he looked rather proud. 

"Bastards," Harry muttered, getting up from his seat. He picked up his bag, returned Patrick's grin, and then let the green flames transport him to Dumbledore's office. It was empty, and Harry hurried down to the Entrance Hall, where he found his friends gathered. They looked like they'd been waiting for him. 

"Hey," Harry said as he walked up to them. Ginny offered him a smile, while Neville didn't seem to know where to look. 

"Bill told us what happened," Ron said. He looked uncomfortable and scooted closer to Luna, who seemed unaware of her boyfriend's tense posture. 

"Yeah, well, we're looking into it," Harry said vaguely. He didn't want to go into any details while other students walked past them to their morning classes. 

"Can we speak with you in the Room of Requirement?" Hermione asked, holding a thick book to her chest. "It is rather important."

"Of course." Harry led the way through the crowd of students. He got a few odd looks and caught a few whispers, but Harry couldn't care less. He had other things to worry about at that moment than whether or not people believed he was shagging his godfather. 

"About that matter you asked me to look into," Hermione said the moment Harry closed the door behind them. She sat down in one of the comfortable chairs and flipped the book open. "Dumbledore gave me this book yesterday, after I'd searched the entire library, and it has a reference to using blood and magic in necromancy."

Harry stared at her, sat down in a chair opposite her, and gestured at her to go on.

"I'm not sure how this should work, but this book claims that when blood is consumed, it provides a link that extends beyond death."

"Huh?" Harry looked at the others, but they seemed as confused as he was. Except for Luna. She beamed. 

"Like in the legend of Julian and Iseldore," Luna said, her silvery eyes shining as if she'd just solved all the world's mysteries. 

"That story is filed under fiction," Hermione said tersely. 

"That doesn't mean it didn't happen," Luna replied with a shrug. 

"Wait. What?" Harry asked, looking between the two girls. "What's this legend?"

"Julian and Iseldore fell in love, and their love was so great they vowed to stay together forever. They used each other's blood to confirm their bond. And then one day, Iseldore was killed by a rival wizard, Julian's worst enemy. He used their blood bond and went after her, and eventually brought her back from death. It's very romantic." Luna gave Ron a dreamy smile, and Ron shifted in his seat, not meeting Harry's gaze. 

"Rubbish," Hermione said with an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. 

"But how would he have been able to do that? You can't just follow someone into death. Can you?" Harry wondered aloud. 

"Of course you can," Luna said. "Well, not you, exactly, but your soul can. Your soul can travel between life and death, just as easily as you can travel to Diagon Alley using the Floo. You just have to know how."

"With blood," Harry guessed, and Luna nodded in response, smiling sweetly. 

For the first time in months, years even, things made sense. In fact, they made so much sense, Harry jumped up from his seat and cried, "That's it! Of course, that's it!"

Hermione stared at him as if he'd gone mad. 

"Souls. Blood. Death. It's all there!" Harry pushed his fist up in a victorious gesture. "I've got two of them! He doesn't! I've died before! All I have to do is..." Harry frowned, "all I have to do is...oh god, now the prophecy is finally making sense."

"All you have to do is what?" Ron asked impatiently. 

"All I have to do is die. Again," Harry said, staring out the window, feeling both hot and cold. He'd started sweating and he wiped at his forehead. "But how do I...how do I get him to die as well...I need to think about this some more."

He looked at the others, and only now noticed their shocked looks. Luna was the only one who looked like her normal self. Neville's cheeks were ghostly grey, Ginny seemed on the verge of tears, Ron was gaping like a fish and Hermione's mouth had dropped open completely. 

"No, it's all right," Harry said with a faint gesture. "I've died before, and I've always come back. I can do it again."

His friends didn't seem convinced, but Harry didn't know what else to say to comfort them. 

"We're going to battle tomorrow evening."

"And we're coming with you," Ron said, his mouth finally closing. 

"No, you're not," Harry said irritably. "This is between me and Voldemort. You've got nothing to do with it."

"Haven't we?" Neville suddenly yelped, getting to his feet. "I have just as much reason to kill Voldemort. He took away my p-parents, just like he did yours!"

Harry was rather taken aback by Neville's sudden outburst, and he didn't know what to say. 

"Neville's right," Ginny said softly. "We all have our reasons. I still have a score to settle with Mr Riddle for what he did to me in my first year."

"He's brought harm to my family," Ron chimed in. "And besides, you're my best mate. Look what he's done to you over the years, Harry. That's reason enough for me to want to kick his arse."

"If people like Voldemort were in power, I wouldn't even be able to go to school here," Hermione said. "I think it's my duty to stop him and all those who share his insane ideas."

Harry felt overwhelmed by his friends' show of support. He also felt outnumbered, so he decided not to object. Truth was, they could use all the help they could get. 

"All right," he said with a nod. "I'll take you with me to Grimmauld Place after classes are over today."

"I think it's time to go to class. We're already awfully late," Hermione said. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed, and then gave Hermione a questioning look. "What is our first class?"

"We've got Bill," Ron said. "He won't mind we're a bit late. I hope."

Chuckling, Harry followed his friends out of the room, where they split up to go to their classes. Ron, Hermione, Neville and he walked down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and as Ron had predicted, Bill didn't take any points for being late. 

As Harry took a seat, Ron stepped up to his brother and whispered something in his ear. Bill responded with a nod, and while Ron sat down in a chair beside Harry, Bill closed his book and pulled out his wand. 

"I know we're supposed to be looking into curse-breaking at the moment, but I've decided to switch my lesson plan around. We'll be practicing the Patronus Charm today."

Harry glanced at Ron, who gave him a wide grin. They spent the morning listening to the theory behind the Patronus Charm, and then trying it for real. While Harry knew it did him little good for tomorrow's battle – he wouldn't have access to his wand, after all -- he realized it was good practice for Ron, Hermione and Neville, as they all knew Voldemort had Dementors on his side. 

After lunch they had Transfiguration, and it seemed that Bill had spread the news of Ron and the rest joining the battle. McGonagall told them they weren't going to continue with their regular class that day. 

"I'm going to teach you how to transfigure your opponent's wand," she said, as she stood in front of the class. "Form pairs, everyone."

After that, there was Herbology, and Sprout filled two hours with a lecture on Devil's Snare and a lot of other lethal plants Harry'd never heard of before and hoped Voldemort wouldn't be keeping around his house. 

When the last bell finally rang, his friends hurried to put away their books, and Harry waited for them at the entrance of Dumbledore's office. When they joined him again he spoke the password, and they let the spiral staircase transport them to the Headmaster's office.

Inside, Harry directed his friends towards the fireplace, and was about to hand out Floo-powder, when someone cleared their throat behind them. 

"And where do you think you're all going?" Snape said, his arms crossed over his chest.


	24. Chapter 23

"We're going home," Harry said, glaring at Snape. 

"No, you're not," Snape said, glaring right back at Harry. "You are going home, Mr Potter." He gestured at the others. "And you are all going to return to your dormitories at once."

"You can't stop us," Neville said. Harry was shocked to see Neville had his wand out.

"I think I can, Mr Longbottom," Snape said through gritted teeth. 

"I'm of age. I'm an adult wizard. You have no authority over me," Neville replied, his voice raised. 

"You are a student of this school and thus you are under my authority!"

Neville pursed his lips, said nothing, and aimed his wand at Snape. 

"Well, well," Snape said in an amused tone. "Do you believe you can threaten me?" He took a step closer to Neville, the tip of Neville's wand pressing against his chest. "Do you believe you stand a chance against an army of Death Eaters?"

"He won't be alone," Hermione said. She also had her wand aimed at Snape, and when Harry looked around the others he saw they all had their wands in hand. 

"Miss Granger. I had expected better of you," Snape said. Hermione's face stayed determined, and Harry felt a sudden surge of pride for his friends. "We will take this up with the headmaster. He will have your wands for threatening a professor."

"They didn't exactly threaten you," Harry pointed out. 

"Be silent, Potter!"

"Right." Oddly enough, Harry didn't feel angry. He felt both amused and warmed that his friends dared to stand up to Snape like that. "We'll just use the fireplace then to see Dumbledore."

Before Snape could respond, Harry pushed Ginny to the fireplace and watched how she disappeared in a burst of green flames. The rest of his friends followed suit until only Harry and Snape remained in Dumbledore's office. 

Harry grabbed a handful of Floo-powder. "They can fight," he said, glancing up at Snape. "We need all the help we can get. And you know it. If you're going to take our wands, do it after the battle so we at least stand a chance."

Snape gave Harry a careful look, his tense features relaxing. For a moment, Harry thought Snape might actually agree with him, but then Snape snarled, "Do not attempt to be this reasonable, Potter. It doesn't suit you."

With a shrug, Harry threw the powder into the fireplace, and let the green flames carry him home. When he stumbled into the kitchen, he saw his friends waiting for him near the door. But there was no one else, and Harry wondered where everyone else had gone; with the Order preparing for battle, Harry'd expected the kitchen to be full of people. 

Something hard bumped against Harry's back. 

"Get out of my way, Potter." Snape pushed past Harry, almost ran over Ginny and Hermione, and disappeared up the stairs. Harry exchanged a quick glance with his friends, and they rushed after Snape. 

Voices rang through the hallway, some of them familiar and some of them not. They saw Snape walk inside the ballroom, and when Harry followed him inside he stopped dead in his tracks. 

The once empty room was filled with long tables, scattered chairs, and dozens of people. Most of the Order members were there, but Harry also saw small groups of men and women he'd never seen before. Patrick was talking to a few of them, and Harry realized they must all be werewolves. 

"Ron! Ginny! What are you doing here?" Mrs Weasley's voice suddenly echoed through the room. 

"Mum. We're here to help," Ron said from somewhere behind Harry. 

"Oh no, you're not!" Mrs Weasley marched across the room. Harry scooted to the right to give her room to pass, and turned to see Ron square his shoulders when Mrs Weasley stopped right in front of him. 

"I'm of age, Mum," Ron said, crossing his arms. 

"But you're not," Mrs Weasley said, turning towards Ginny. 

"I'll be of age in six months," Ginny sputtered. "I can help, Mum."

Mrs Weasley clenched her jaws, and then inhaled a deep breath. "Neville, dear. What would your grandmother say?"

Neville's cheeks flushed. "Gran got killed by these b-bastards. I think she'd be proud of me for going to battle."

Sighing, Mrs Weasley glanced at Hermione. "Dear – "

"I'm of age. Sorry," Hermione said, and managed to sound apologetic. 

"Hermione, Ginny, you both take Arithmancy, right?" Bill asked. Harry hadn't seen him walk up to them. "We're working on calculating possible protection spells on Voldemort's house and we could use your help." Bill gestured to Harry's friends to follow him. "Ron, Neville, we could use your assistance as well."

Harry watched how his friends followed Bill to a long table at which Dumbledore, Moody, Mr Weasley and Kingsley stood, examining countless scrolls. And he was left alone with Mrs Weasley. He glanced up at her, and couldn't help noticing that Mrs Weasley looked helpless and lost and very, very scared. Harry shoved his hands inside his pockets and thought about saying something to Mrs Weasley. That everything would be all right. But truth was, Harry didn't know if everything would be all right. 

An arm wrapped around Harry's shoulder. "Lad," Patrick said in Harry's ear. "I want you to meet two good friends of mine."

"Sure," Harry said, glad to be pulled away from Mrs. Weasley. Patrick led him to a man and a woman standing close together. 

"This is my good friend Richard," Patrick said, gesturing at the man. 

"Hi," Harry said, shaking Richard's hand. Richard seemed to be around Patrick's age, though his features were far less distinctive. He was the kind of man Harry wouldn't notice in a crowd. Grey hair, balding on the back, and ordinary brown eyes. 

"And this is his wife Maggie." Patrick gestured at the woman. 

"Hi, nice to meet you." Harry shook Maggie's hand. She had long, blond hair tied back in a ponytail, blue eyes, and a kind smile. 

"It's so nice to meet you, Harry," Maggie said. She kept Harry's hand in her own for a few moments. "I knew your mother. She was two years behind me in Hogwarts."

"Really? Are you a Gryffindor?" Harry asked, surprised. He already liked Maggie. He wasn't sure yet about Richard. 

"No, I'm a Ravenclaw. But we knew some of the same people. She was a wonderful and talented witch," Maggie said, her eyes crinkling as though she was remembering something pleasant. 

Harry scuffed his shoe against the wooden floor. He wasn't sure what to say to that. 

"Oh my goodness, is that Severus Snape?" Maggie said, her voice rising an octave. "Severus, is that you?"

Snape, who stalked by, stopped dead in his tracks. "Margaret Clayton." He sneered at her, and then glanced at Richard. "I never thought I'd see the day you'd be socializing with a Slytherin."

Maggie laughed, and hooked her arm around Richard's. "And I married him, too."

Snape looked as though he was repulsed by the idea. "Well, don't the four of you make the perfect picture of House unity." And with that, he swept away to the main table.

"He hasn't changed a bit," Maggie said, and seemed amused by the idea. Harry didn't pay her much attention. He stared at Richard, who he'd just learned was a Slytherin.

Harry leaned closer to Patrick. "Are they both like us?" he asked, his voice quiet. 

"Aye, lad," Patrick said, loud enough for the others to hear. "And they're not just werewolves. Richard infected Maggie. I thought you'd like to know that."

Harry stared at the couple, flabbergasted. "He infected you? And you married him?" he finally managed to ask. 

Maggie smiled, leaning her head on Richard's shoulder. "Yes, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing much Richard could do about it."

Richard shook his head. "It was as much an accident as most infections are. I tracked her down, though, and offered her my assistance."

"Yes, he was enough of a gentleman to take responsibility for his actions, and he helped me adjust to my condition. And then one thing led to another." 

Harry glanced at Patrick, and then he stared across the room to where Remus was talking to Mr Weasley. It was good to know not all related werewolves had such turbulent pasts as Patrick and Remus had. 

"They moved to the Muggle world like I did," Patrick said. "Richard sells insurances, and Maggie's a veterinarian."

"Yeah, I know it's hard to stay in our world, isn't it?" Harry said. 

"Yes," Richard said, his voice hardening. "And it will stay that way until they change those outdated laws."

"Oh, hush, dear." Maggie gave Richard a playful slap on his arm. "Harry's got different things to worry about now."

"Right," Harry said. That brought him back to the things he'd learned earlier at Hogwarts. "I have to talk to Remus now." He looked at Patrick. "And you may want to hear it, too. Where's Ivan?"

"Hiding out in the library with Duncan. So many wizards in one place make him nervous," Patrick said with a chuckle. Harry offered Maggie and Richard a polite smile, and grabbed Patrick's arm. They made their way across the room, Patrick greeting several men and women Harry suspected were werewolves as well. 

"Remus."

"Hello, Harry," Remus said, turning away from Mr Weasley. 

"We need to talk. About...you know."

"Of course." Remus followed them to the library, where they found Ivan and Duncan curled up on the couch, fast asleep. 

"Wake up, love," Patrick said, flicking his fingers against Ivan's ear. 

Ivan shot up, baring his fangs. "Keep your stick away from me!"

"That's not what you told me last night," Patrick said with a chuckle. Ivan blinked, and seemed to realize who was talking to him. 

"Oh, it's you." Ivan stretched, and poked Duncan in his chest. "All these magicians. It's driving me insane." Then he looked at Harry. "Hello, puppy. Did you have a good day at school?"

"Hey," Harry said, and stepped up to the blackboard. "I learned some things today." He flipped the blackboard over, revealing the stick figure drawing of Voldemort and himself.

"Go on," Remus said, seating himself on the edge of the table. 

"I think I know what the white room is," Harry said, picking up a piece of chalk. He drew a wobbly circle between the two figures. "I think it's our souls. That's the only explanation I can think of. It explains why Occlumency isn't of any use, because that only protects the mind. And it explains why we don't have our wands there, because we aren't physically in that room. There isn't even a real room."

Remus pursed his lips, tilting his head. "That indeed explains quite a few things."

Harry turned to Ivan. "And I think I've found a way to kill him. Voldemort has protected himself from death in life. But he only has a half-life. Can he be killed in death?"

Ivan's eyes widened, and his lips tugged up in a grin. "Very clever, puppy. Yes, one can be killed inside death. But you'd have to follow him there."

"Right," Harry said, sighing. "I have to follow him. He's consumed my blood, but I haven't consumed his. So does that mean I can't follow him, but he can follow me?"

"Hmm." Remus looked thoughtful. "Possibly. But you are connected in more ways than just blood." Remus pointed at Harry's forehead. "I'll bet my wand this blood connection works both ways as well."

"Good," Harry said. He felt distanced from his own words, but he had to be, because otherwise he feared he'd go crazy with the idea of having to die to kill Voldemort. "We'll find out tomorrow, I guess."

A knock sounded on the library door. A moment later, Dumbledore walked in. 

"Ah, Harry, there you are," he said with a small smile. "I believe it is time to finalize our plan with Voldemort."

"You mean...?" Harry waved at his own head. 

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Contact Voldemort and tell him when you'll meet him tomorrow for the exchange."

"All right." Harry sat down in one of the chairs around the table. He didn't like meeting Voldemort again one bit, but he knew he had no choice. He inhaled a few deep breaths, and closed his eyes. 

The connection was right there, throbbing in the back of his mind, and it was almost easy now to push against it until he fell inside the white room that wasn't really there. 

"Harry. Have you made up your mind?" Voldemort asked, staring Harry in his eyes. 

"Is Sirius still alive?" Harry asked, pushing back the flare of pain he felt at the prospect of a negative answer. 

"Of course. Your godfather is still alive and breathing."

Harry wasn't sure if he should believe Voldemort, but he didn't really have a choice. "Tomorrow. At sunset. We'll make the exchange. Where?"

"Contact Severus Snape. He will deliver you to me." Voldemort smirked. "Sunset tomorrow. Don't be late, of I will be forced to take my temper out on your godfather."

"I'll be there," Harry said, gritting his teeth. A sharp flare rose inside his chest, the same pain he'd felt the day before. As though Blue was trying to claw his way out. Harry bit it back, and gave Voldemort one final nod. Then he turned and left the room through his own door. 

"Harry?" Remus asked. Harry felt Remus' hand stroking his cheek. 

"Yeah, I'm here. It's settled."

"We heard," Dumbledore said. "I believe Molly is fixing supper in the kitchen. I suggest you go for a bite to eat now. We'll go over our plan later in the ballroom."

And even though Harry wasn't feeling hungry in the slightest, he followed everyone else down to the kitchen, glad for the distraction.

*~*~*~*~*

After supper, which was a quiet and strained event since Mrs Weasley still wasn't pleased most of her children were there, Harry followed Remus and Patrick to the drawing room. Ivan and Duncan stayed behind with Dumbledore, discussing something Harry wasn't interested in hearing.

And then, when the sun set, the vampires started to arrive. 

The thundering sound of cars and motorcycles pulling up alerted Harry, and he positioned himself in front of the drawing room window. Ivan stood outside, a stack of hand written notes from Dumbledore in his hand. He handed one to each vampire, who looked at it, and proceeded to the front door, where Duncan waited to direct them to the ballroom. 

And uneasy feeling settled in Harry's stomach, his instinctual response to so many unknown vampires entering the house. Patrick gave him a reassuring smile, and continued the game of chess he was playing with Remus. Harry had no patience for games at that moment, so he pressed his nose against the window and watched how vampire after vampire filed inside the house. 

It went on for hours, and when the clock on the mantel told them it was close to midnight, Remus and Patrick got up, and Harry followed them into the corridor. 

Robbert and Michael, the enormous vampires Harry remembered seeing outside Ivan's club, were the last to arrive. They took up so much space in the corridor, Snape, who was on his way to the ballroom as well, jumped aside in shock and almost fell on top of Harry. 

"Hey, little wolf," Robbert said, flashing his fangs. "Nice place you've got here."

"Hey," Harry said, pulling away from Snape, who gave Harry a repulsed sneer. 

"Yeah, very Gothic," Michael agreed. He winked at Harry, and Harry raised his hand hesitantly in greeting.

"Come on, puppy," Ivan said from behind Harry. "Time for the next confrontation."

Harry wasn't sure what Ivan meant, but as soon as he stepped inside the ballroom, he understood. On one side, all the people Harry thought were werewolves stood, and on the other side, the vampires were taking up space. And both parties were glaring at each other, oblivious to the Order who stood assembled around the main table. 

As soon as Ivan stepped inside the room, the vampires started talking loudly, all at once. 

"Enough!" Ivan bellowed, strolling towards his clan, Duncan on his heels. "You know why we're here. You know what we're going to do tomorrow. Until that time, you be quiet, all of you."

And much to Harry's surprise, the vampires fell silent, though they didn't stop glaring across the room. 

Dumbledore waved Harry over, and Harry expected Patrick to follow him. But Patrick gave Harry a smile, and joined the group of werewolves. And Harry and Remus were left standing alone in the middle of the ballroom. 

Glancing at Remus, Harry felt torn, but only for a moment. Then he remembered Patrick's words, his accusations against Remus, and Harry grabbed Remus' hand, and all but dragged him to the werewolves. And Remus seemed relieved Harry had made the decision for him. 

"Well done," a voice said behind Harry, while a hand squeezed his shoulder. Harry expected Patrick, but as he glanced behind him, he saw Richard smiling at him. And for some vague reason, Richard's smile reminded Harry of Sirius. Harry shook himself, and focused on the main table. 

Dumbledore nodded at Harry, Ron looked nonplussed, and Hermione offered Harry a rather proud smile. 

"Welcome," Dumbledore said, bowing lightly to both sides of the room. "Please allow me to share our plan with you. I ask you to hold your questions until later. Then we'll do our best to answer them."

And Dumbledore explained all the things they'd come up with so far, and what he thought they could expect the next evening. He told the werewolves the Wolfsbane potion was available for all, and he told the vampires he expected them to go in first, as they had the best resistance against magic. 

After he was done, the room remained silent for a moment, until a menacing looking vampire with spiky blue hair took a step forward. 

"Are we allowed to kill those sorcerers?" he asked, one side of his lip curling up. 

Dumbledore released a sigh, while other members of the Order started murmuring to each other. 

"Keep quiet," Ivan snapped, turning towards the vampire, who cowered back. "This isn't a blood fest. Those sorcerers know how to stake your arse, so you're better off focusing on defending yourself than attacking any of them."

"Thank you, Mr Storkavic," Dumbledore said, sounding as patient as ever. "The Death Eaters are indeed well adept at taking out a vampire. Defense should be your main concern. However, since Voldemort's followers won't show us any mercy, I don't expect any of you to give them that courtesy in return."

Ivan nodded at Dumbledore, and several vampires gave appreciative sounds. 

A few werewolves asked questions; how were they traveling – by portkey – and who would guarantee them the Ministry wouldn't sentence them all to death for attacking wizards – Dumbledore personally vowed for that. 

Then the meeting took a more practical turn as Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley and Bill approached several people to discuss sleeping arrangements. Harry leaned against Remus, and thought the meeting had gone well. They had a strong army, with so many werewolves and vampires on their side. He did believe they'd be able to take out the Death Eaters. However, he wasn't sure what was going to happen between Voldemort and himself. 

But he tried not to worry about that. His main concern still was to get Sirius out of there alive.

*~*~*~*~*

When it was time for bed, Harry spent at least ten minutes wishing everyone he knew a good night. He did it mindlessly, trying to be polite, but his heart wasn't in it. He even wished Snape a good night, though that was very much by accident, and Snape glared at him as if Harry had just called him something very nasty.

The good thing about having so many people around the house was that bedrooms were sparse, and thus none of the Order members objected when Harry and Remus entered the same room. 

Inside, Harry didn't know what to say to Remus, or if he even should say something. This could be their last night together, and something told Harry perhaps they should try to spend it intimately. But despite the full moon so close to rising, Harry wasn't feeling horny in the slightest.

Before he could make up his mind whether or not to approach Remus, who was undressing quietly near his side of the bed, the door banged open and Ivan stalked in. 

"We're sharing tonight. Your bed is big enough for the four of us."

"If that is all right with you two," Patrick added, entering after Ivan. 

"Of course," Remus said with a nod. Harry kept his eyes on Ivan and wondered why Ivan seemed so agitated all of a sudden. There wasn't much left of Ivan's usual flair of arrogance and indifference. As he stripped to his boxers, Harry thought perhaps Ivan was nervous, though that didn't seem like something that fit Ivan's personality. But it was the only explanation Harry could think of. 

Harry sighed and slipped under the covers. Just then, a hesitant knock sounded on their door. 

"Yes?" Remus called out. 

The door creaked open and Fred's face came into view. "We've offered our room to Mum, Dad, and Bill."

"And now we need a place to bunk for the night," George said, looking inside over Fred's shoulder. 

Remus smiled and waved them in. The twins were followed by a floating mattress, blankets and pillows, and finally, Duncan, who closed the door. They settled on the floor opposite the bed, arranging themselves under the covers with Duncan tucked between the twins. 

Harry watched them because there wasn't much else to do while he waited for the others to get ready for bed. Remus lay down on his left, as usual, and Ivan settled on his right, with Patrick on Ivan's other side. Harry couldn't help feeling that Ivan was naked, but somehow that didn't matter to him. He had more important things on his mind than worrying about naked people in his bed. 

"I suggest we try to get some sleep," Remus said, and reached for the gas lamp. A moment later the room was dark, and Harry turned on his side, trying to get comfortable. 

It wasn't that he was uncomfortable sleeping between two bodies, but Ivan wasn't Sirius, and that thought of Sirius stirred unpleasantly in Harry's stomach. He rolled onto his back and stared up into the darkness, ignoring Ivan's irritated sigh and poke with his elbow. 

He had his pack with him, Harry knew. All these people were his pack, and that should make him feel good. At least, better than he felt. But the lack of Sirius and the uncertain turn of events that next day made Harry's insides twist into a knot while his mind spun with impossible thoughts. 

So he lay still and stared into the darkness and listened to the soft breaths around him, but he could tell no one was asleep yet. And then the sound of a lighter penetrated the silence, followed by a small flame, and the glowing tip of a cigarette. 

"For fuck's sake," Ivan snarled, pulling on the sheets in protest. "That's disgusting."

Patrick let out a patient breath. "We could all be dead tomorrow, love, and you're going to berate me having one last fag before going to sleep?" The orange tip glowed brightly for a moment. 

"I'm not planning on dying, mate," Fred said. 

"That's right, no one is going to die," George added.

Silence for a moment, and then Duncan said in slight confusion, "Dude, I thought Harry was going to kill someone."

Those words struck Harry like a punch in the gut. He was going to have to kill someone. Even if that someone was as evil and foul as Voldemort and had killed his parents, Harry was still going to have to take his _life_. 

Harry thought he might be sick at that realization. "God," he gasped. He felt Remus' hand on his arm, stroking softly, but that did nothing to calm him. "I never...I never thought...I never realized..."

He couldn't finish his sentence, and he glanced at Ivan. He was quite sure Ivan could see him in the dark, and he hoped that Ivan would have a few words of comfort or advice, or would produce a paperback with a story that could make Harry understand, because Ivan _knew_. 

But Ivan turned his back to Harry, and Harry understood that for what it was. Ivan did not want to address that subject.

Harry wondered if Remus had ever killed someone. Or Patrick. He didn't think so, but he craved to talk to someone about it, and for a moment he even considered going to Snape, because surely Snape with his Death Eater past must know what it was like, but then Harry thought that Snape would probably sooner kill Harry than tell him about his past, and Harry felt alone and lost. 

"I'm sorry," Duncan said. "I didn't realize this is your first time."

Harry couldn't help noticing that Duncan's accent had changed. It was still very American, but far less contemporary than usual. More articulate, somehow.

"I remember my first time," Duncan said, his voice quiet, but it sounded magnified by the darkness and silence in the room. "It was Old Man Miller. When I was – when the vampire turned me, I got this insane urge to kill someone and I couldn't stop it."

Beside Harry, Ivan released a deep, suffering breath. 

"Old Man Miller had killed his wife," Duncan continued. "He never got convicted for it, but everyone in our village knew he'd done it. He lived as a recluse in the forest around the village, because everyone shunned him for what he'd done. And when I got that urge, and I couldn't stop it, he was the only person I could think of who deserved to die."

Remus' hand was still stroking Harry's arm, and Harry chased it, and weaved his own fingers with Remus'. 

"I went to his house, and he didn't even seem surprised I was there to kill him. Like he wanted it. And I told him, just as I grabbed him by the neck: 'You deserve to die'. And he said: 'I know, but that won't make you any less of a murderer.' And he laughed. While I drained him, he laughed."

Harry bit his lip, and felt Remus squeeze his hand.

"And I knew he was right. Killing someone, no matter if they deserve it or not, makes you a murderer. But sometimes, you have no choice."

"You didn't have a choice, Duncan," Ivan suddenly said. "You, puppy, do have a choice. Do you want to risk dogboy dying? Do you want to spend the rest of your life on the run from some maniac who wants to kill you and all the people you care about? That's your choice. And I suggest you make it before sunset tomorrow."

Releasing a sigh, Harry turned on his side, resting his cheek on Remus' chest. Remus stroked his hand through Harry's hair, and Harry thought about the things Duncan and Ivan had said. Harry had a choice. And as he listened to Remus' heartbeat, calm and soothing, he knew he'd already made it. He just didn't want to admit to himself that by that time tomorrow, he'd be a murderer.

*~*~*~*~*

When Harry woke up, before his mind remembered the events of the past few days, he had a brief moment of confusion why Sirius felt so cold against his back. And then reality caught up with him, and Harry knew Sirius was gone and Ivan lay beside him.

And that day, that evening, all would be decided. 

Harry sat up, his heart hammering in his chest. 

"Relax, puppy," Ivan muttered beside him, turning to curl around Patrick's back. "It's not sunset yet."

That did nothing to calm Harry. He looked down at Remus, dragged his hand through Remus' hair, and climbed out of bed, careful not to step on the twins or Duncan, who were all still fast asleep. Harry slipped on his dressing gown and left the room in search of something. Breakfast, perhaps. Or a quiet corner where he could spend the rest of the day so no one had to see how scared he was. 

He tried the drawing room first, but there he found Snape asleep on the couch, face hidden behind a curtain of greasy hair. He was surrounded by several boiling cauldrons. Harry knew that smell. Wolfsbane Potion.

Closing the door quietly, since he did not want to find out if Snape was a morning person or not, Harry decided to try the library next. He found Kingsley, Moody and Tonks there, asleep in the leather chairs in front of the fireplace.

He decided to give the ballroom a go, hoping to find a few Order members who weren't asleep. But as he pushed the door open, Harry saw dozens and dozens of familiar purple sleeping bags occupied with resting vampires scattered across the floor. He tried to make a quiet retreat, but his panicked pulse gave him away. 

"Oh, look, they deliver breakfast in this place," a voice came from a sleeping bag to Harry's right. The vampire with spiky blue hair who'd seemed so eager on killing the previous night gave Harry a wide grin. 

"Don't even think about it," answered a more familiar voice. Robbert, who lay under two sleeping bags to cover his huge body, tilted his head up. "He wears Master's mark."

"Bugger," the vampire with spiky blue hair said.

Harry decided not to stay long enough to see if his mark was enough to keep any of the vampires from having him for breakfast. He closed the door, and went down to the kitchen for a cup of tea. 

The kitchen was empty, save for a man sitting at the table, with the teapot and a cup of steaming tea in front of him. 

"Hello," Harry said, as he shuffled inside the kitchen. 

The man turned, and only now did Harry recognize him. 

"Morning, Harry," Richard said, and picked up the teapot. "Tea?"

"Sure, thanks." Harry sat down in a chair opposite Richard, who summoned a cup and poured Harry his tea. Harry wrapped his hands around the cup, while Richard observed him quietly. 

"Are you worried about your godfather?" Richard asked, as Harry sipped his tea. 

"Er...yeah," Harry said. 

Richard leaned back in his seat, a peculiar look on his face. "Sirius Black is a tough bastard. And stubborn to boot. It's going to take more than a few days of captivity to kill him."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Do you know Sirius?"

Shrugging, Richard offered him a sly smile. "I know he's spent twelve years in Azkaban, and he survived that."

As Harry stared at Richard, he realized Richard hadn't answered his question. But before Harry could ask him again, Richard produced a pack of cigarettes – Camels, like the ones Patrick smoked – and tucked one between his lips. Then he offered the pack to Harry. 

"Cigarette? Might help you with those nerves."

And Harry's first thought was to refuse, because he didn't smoke. But then he realized he could die that evening, so he might as well give it a try. 

"Sure." Harry accepted a cigarette, and then leaned forward when Richard gave him a light. He inhaled, and choked when hot, burning smoke penetrated his lungs. 

"You'll get used to it," Richard said, dragging on his own cigarette. "What you did last night took courage."

"Huh?" Harry gulped down half his cup of tea, and then took a careful drag of his cigarette. The smoke made his eyes water. 

"You chose your own kind. And that's exactly what we need if we ever want to change these laws."

"Yeah," Harry said, frowning. "But if I go public, Remus' life will be in danger."

Richard nodded. "And that's the main problem. Unless someone goes public and wins the people's respect, that law is never going to change, and we're all stuck hiding in fear of our lives."

Harry considered that, taking another drag of his cigarette. It wasn't as bad as before, but it was still far from good. 

"Harry!" Hermione's voice suddenly shrieked through the kitchen. "Are you smoking? It will give you lung cancer and heart disease." Hermione gave him a disapproving look as she walked inside the kitchen, followed by Ron, Neville and Ginny.

Harry looked at the cigarette between his fingers, and then quickly stubbed it out in the ashtray Richard had conjured.

"And you, Sir, do you have any idea what secondary smoking does to our lungs?" Hermione said, crossing her arms as she glared at Richard. 

"I'll be in the yard," Richard said, rising to his feet. "Think about what I said, Harry."

"All right," Harry said. He got up as well, and got eggs and bacon from the cooler to start breakfast. Not because he was hungry, but because it gave him something to do. 

"Harry was smoking," Hermione said a moment later, when Patrick and Remus entered the room. 

"You been spending time with Richard, lad?" Patrick asked, amused. "He got me hooked, too."

"Yeah," Harry said, a furious blush heating his cheeks. "He's in the yard."

"I'll go join him then for some nicotine." Patrick disappeared out the door, and Harry avoided Remus' questioning glance. More people entered the kitchen, and soon Harry was busy enough cooking breakfast and making tea, he could forget what awaited them all at the end of the day.

*~*~*~*~*

Throughout the morning, with everything he did, Harry had one reoccurring thought. Was this the last time he had breakfast? Was this the last time he had a shower? Was this the last time he got dressed? Was this the last time he saw Remus' naked body?

Around noon, when everyone had finally managed to get washed up and dressed, Snape entered the kitchen. 

"The Wolfsbane potion is ready for consumption."

Harry got up, as did the other werewolves, and they followed Snape to the drawing room where they lined up. Harry stood between Patrick and Remus, and tried to remain calm. It would do him no good to let his worries and doubts control his mind, but that close to the full moon, Blue was lurking in his mind and it was hard to stay focused. 

"Thanks," Harry said when it was his turn and Snape offered him a steaming goblet. Harry put it to his lips, and just then Snape yanked a few hairs out of his head. 

"Ow!"

"It's for your friend, Potter," Snape said, and sprinkled the hairs in a different cauldron. Harry recognized the thick potion inside it. Polyjuice potion. Harry downed the Wolfsbane, grimaced, and offered the cup back to Snape. 

The entire house was alive with chattering voices and hurried footsteps, and it drove Harry mad. Dumbledore was creating portkeys in the ballroom, where the vampires grew restless as they complained about the lack of food. Mrs Weasley was in the kitchen, cooking a large supper, while she was still trying to convince her children not to join the battle that evening.

Harry retired to the library, which was reasonably peaceful. Kingsley, Moody, Tonks and a few other Order members were there, discussing floor plans, but they kept their voices down. Harry was soon joined by Remus, Patrick, Ivan and Duncan, and they talked about trivial things.

Later, Richard and Maggie joined them as well, and Maggie told Harry a few stories about his mother at Hogwarts. Harry was grateful, because it was a distraction, but all the while he couldn't help noticing the sun sinking lower and lower in the sky through the crack in the drawn curtains. 

"Mr Storkavic," Snape said, barging inside the room. "Time for your potion."

"Come on, puppy," Ivan said. "Let's see how you look on me."

Harry followed Ivan and Snape to the drawing room, as did the rest, and inside, Ivan turned to Patrick. 

"Should we say our goodbyes now?" Ivan asked, curling an arm around Patrick's neck. "I don't think the puppy will appreciate it if snog you later while I'm in his body."

Patrick chuckled. "No goodbyes, Ivan. I'll see you on the other side." 

Ivan leaned his forehead against Patrick's, his mouth curving up in a smile. "Be careful."

"You, too." Patrick kissed Ivan, long and deep, and Harry looked away, feeling as though he was intruding on something private. 

Snape cleared his throat, and Ivan pulled away from Patrick, running a hand through his hair. 

"Let's do this," he said, accepting a goblet from Snape. Wrinkling his nose, he stared first at the potion, and then at Snape. "You expect me to drink this?"

Snape let out a very impatient sound. 

"There had better be a dozen blushing virgins waiting for me when this is all over," Ivan said through gritted teeth, and then downed the potion. Harry winced in sympathy; he remembered the taste of Polyjuice, and it was only marginally better than Wolfsbane. 

Ivan dropped the empty goblet to the floor, doubling over as his skin started bubbling. Harry watched how Ivan's hair turned from brown to black and transformed into a short, unruly mess. Ivan's body shortened, and a few agonizing moments later, Ivan straightened himself. And Harry saw himself dressed in a white shirt and black leather trousers. It looked really odd on him, he quickly decided. 

Ivan blinked, and then doubled over again, clutching at his chest. 

"Love, you all right?" Patrick asked, as Snape stared at Ivan with a frown. 

"Yeah," Ivan gasped. "My heart's beating. Haven't felt that in a while." Ivan looked up at Harry, pressing his palm against his own cheek. "It's rather warm inside you, puppy. And dear lord, you're blind as a bat."

Snape cleared his throat, and handed Ivan a pair of glasses. Then Remus stepped forward, and offered Ivan a change of Harry's clothes. And a few moments later, Harry stared at an identical copy of himself, Gryffindor robes included. 

Ivan stared back at him, blinking owlishly behind his glasses, and then he swayed on his feet. "Forgot to breathe," he said, inhaling a deep breath. "This takes some getting used to."

A knock sounded on the door, and Dumbledore entered. "It's time to gather in the ballroom."

People around Harry started moving, started making their way out the room, but Harry wanted to stop them and tell them it couldn't be time yet. He wasn't ready yet. He had no idea what he was going to do with Voldemort. 

"Harry," Remus said, sliding his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulling him close. "You're not alone. We're all there with you."

"Yeah," Harry said, staring into Remus' eyes. He added, softer, "I'm scared."

"We're all scared." Remus pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's lips. "Remember what you're doing it for."

Harry closed his eyes. "Sirius," he whispered. "We have to get him back."

"Yes," Remus said, and kissed Harry again. This time Harry answered the kiss, and squeezed his eyes as he felt Remus' lips and tongue, and he knew they were incomplete. Sirius should be there, and Harry was going to get him back. 

"Let's go," Remus said, and reached for Harry's hand. 

"Yes, let's." Harry squeezed Remus' hand, and felt Blue pacing inside his mind. The full moon was close to rising, and Harry let Blue surface as much as he could, drawing strength from the beast inside him. 

They were the last to enter the ballroom, and joined the werewolves while Dumbledore gave a few last-minute instructions. But Harry didn't hear them. He kept squeezing Remus' hand and kept Blue close inside him, and told himself over and over again that he – they – had to get Sirius back, no matter the consequences. Sirius was pack, and no one touched Harry's – Blue's – pack. 

Bill and Charlie, who'd arrived sometime during the day with a few Romanian wizards, handed out portkeys. Remus accepted a porcelain vase from them. 

"I'll hold your wands this evening," Dumbledore said. Harry snapped his gaze up; he hadn't heard the Headmaster approach. "You won't be needing them as long as the moon is full."

Harry reached for his wand, as did all the werewolves around him, and handed it to Dumbledore. He felt naked without it, even though he knew he had no use for it. But his wand had always been by his side when he'd faced Voldemort in the past. 

"One minute," Dumbledore called, and Remus gestured for Harry to place his hand on the portkey. The porcelain felt cold against Harry's palm. Patrick, Richard and Maggie joined them, and Harry stared at their hands on the white vase. He thought he might be sick. 

"Thirty seconds."

Harry looked around the room, realizing he hadn't said goodbye to his friends. He stared at the main table, and he could just see the back of Ron's head, but his other friends were obscured by the many Order members. Harry glanced to his right, and saw Snape, with Ivan by his side, looking exactly like Harry. 

Ivan met Harry's eyes. "I'll kill for you, puppy. Remember that."

Before Harry could reply, a fierce tug behind his navel caught Harry by surprise, and a short but sickening ride later, Harry found himself in a dark forest. The purplish sky to the west was the only evidence the sun was about to set. 

"You'll have to transform here," Bill said. He stood beside Charlie and Kingsley, and all three had their wands out. "Any closer to Voldemort's hideout, and he'd detect us."

"I hope Snape's potion will work," Charlie said with a lopsided grin. Harry looked around and understood what Charlie meant. There were at least three dozen werewolves there. Harry very much hoped Snape's potion would work, too. 

"If not, I hope you know how to climb, little brother," Bill said, pointing at a large oak behind them. Charlie snickered, and even Harry couldn't hold back a smile, though he suspected that was more because of his nerves than anything else. 

"Let's get undressed," Remus said. Patrick was already pulling on the buttons of his shirt. 

"Here?" Harry asked, uncomfortable with the idea of being naked between so many strangers. 

"Of course," Remus said. He shrugged his shirt off, and started on his trousers. "Clothes will only get in the way after the transformation."

"Oh." Harry cast one last dubious glance around, and undressed himself. When he was naked, Remus splayed out some of their clothes on the ground. Harry sat down beside Remus, with Patrick, Richard and Maggie sitting opposite them. 

"A couple more minutes," Richard said, leaning back on one arm, as though his nudity didn't bother him at all. "Cigarette?"

"Might as well," Patrick said. Harry didn't look at them. He was aware Maggie was naked, too, and he thought it was rude to stare at her. So while Richard and Patrick lit one up, Harry focused his gaze on Remus. 

"I love you," he whispered, thinking it was important he told Remus that. 

Remus smiled, and wrapped his arm around Harry's waist, pulling him closer. "I love you, too." Harry leaned against Remus, trying to get comfortable, but the cold and moist from the forest floor seeped through their clothes, and the moon was so close to rising, Harry's skin started to itch and burn. 

Scratching absently at his chest, Harry kept his gaze locked with Remus', tried to lose himself in those light-brown eyes, until the pain struck. Falling back against the leaves and twigs on the ground, Harry screamed as Blue clawed his way out. And he wasn't the only one; scream after scream echoed through the quiet forest. 

An eternity of ripping, tearing pain later, Harry lay panting on the ground, suddenly aware of so many new colors around him, teasing his nose. A warm tongue licked over Harry's muzzle, and Harry opened his eyes and saw Moony wagging his tail at him. Harry smiled at him, his tail wagging furiously. 

Pushing himself up to his large paws, Harry saw Patrick and Richard and Maggie. And there was no question who the leader of their little pack was. Patrick's tail was low, and he kept his head down as he licked at Richard's mouth. Richard was dark-grey, a sharp contrast to Maggie's white form. And as Harry made his way towards Richard, his body and tail low and ears pressed back, he had to suppress the odd urge to go and sniff at Maggie's backside.

Richard regarded him with calm, brown eyes, and allowed Harry to push his head under Richard's chin. Harry did the same with Patrick and Maggie, and when their statuses were confirmed, Harry felt much more at ease. Things seemed simpler inside his lupine mind, and Blue for one had no problem with the task that awaited them. 

"This way," Bill said, the light from his wand signaling them. "We'll reach Voldemort's hideout just when the sun has set completely."

And they followed Bill, Richard taking the lead, Maggie beside him, and then Patrick, Moony and Harry. Other small packs of werewolves formed and walked between the trees, their fierce bodies casting long shadows in the lights of the wands around them. 

Harry felt the urge to howl, excitement swelling in his chest. But he resisted, knowing any sound may alert Voldemort. He kept his mouth shut, and his mind closed, though he could feel the connection throbbing inside him. Bill muttered things, swishing his wand around, and Harry thought he was probably checking their surroundings for spells and curses. Every now and then, Bill told them to stop while he whipped his wand around, and it took them a while to reach their destination; the edge of the forest, which gave them a perfect view of an old, decrepit mansion. 

Voldemort was inside there. As was Sirius. That thought drove Blue mad, and Harry had to push him back to keep control over his mind and body. 

And out of nowhere, figures appeared around them. Vampires transported there by portkeys. Duncan was among them, and the moment he recognized Patrick, he approached Harry's pack. 

"Dude, this place is giving me the creeps," Duncan said, letting Patrick rub his head against his thigh. Duncan wore a bright yellow and orange Hawaiian shirt, and Harry wondered if Duncan actually wanted to be spotted by their enemies. 

The vampires started stalking across the lawn in the direction of the house when more figures appeared around them. Order members this time, and Harry saw his friends among them. He gave a sharp yip in recognition, but only Hermione seemed to understand it was him. Ron was too busy looking worried having so many werewolves close by. 

Two men walked across the lawn right to the front door of the mansion. Snape and Ivan, and Harry started panting, licking his lips and nose. Their plan had to work. Because if it didn't, Sirius would die. The heavy doors closed behind Snape and Ivan, and Harry shared a quick glance with Moony, who was panting, too. 

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered. "Do you feel that?"

Harry did. A chill crept up his spine, not as strong as he'd felt it before, but he recognized it all the same. 

Dark shadows glided across the grass. 

"Expecto Patronum, Expecto Patronum, Expecto Patronum," Neville kept whispering, as though he were afraid to forget the incantation the moment he closed his mouth. And all Harry could do was wish he had his wand and could cast the spell himself. 

Much to Harry's, and everyone else's, surprise, the Dementors ignored the vampires they encountered on the lawn and went straight for the werewolves and humans hidden between the trees. 

And then it struck Harry. Of course. Vampires didn't have human souls. They had half-lives, and half their soul was already dead. There wasn't enough there for Dementors to take an interest in. 

"Oi, Mike, their heads come off!" Robbert said, having jumped on top of a Dementor, pulling on its head. 

"Lemme try!" Michael replied, and a horrible tearing sound drifted through the air. And that was the start of a slaughter, as the vampires attacked every one of the Dementors around them. And the Dementors didn't stand a chance against a small army of vampires intent on decapitating them with their bare hands. 

"Let's get closer to the house," Bill said. Order members around them cast concealment spells and disillusionment charms, and then they left the safety of the trees to sneak towards the house. Harry and his pack kept close, followed by Harry's friends. Bill led the way, casting spells left and right. 

They reached one of the windows, and a crack in the curtains gave them enough of a view of the room behind it. Harry leaned his chin on the window-ledge, keeping his ears low, and peeked inside. 

The room was filled with Death Eaters, all black robes and white masks, and Snape and Ivan stood in the middle. A door opened, and in walked Voldemort, a satisfied smile on his face which made him look even scarier than he already was. 

Snape dropped to his knees, pressing his lips to the hem of Voldemort's robes. Beside him, Ivan kept his eyes lowered. Voldemort said something, but the windows were too thick to pass sound. Ivan raised his head and stared into Voldemort's eyes. 

Harry panted harder, his nose pressed against the glass, leaving small fogged stains. 

And then Voldemort stumbled back, clutching his head in his hands. Ivan lunged for him, and while he still looked very much like Harry Potter, there was nothing but vampire in his moves as he went straight for Voldemort's throat. Three Death Eaters stepped forward, pulling Ivan off Voldemort, who looked around the room bewildered. 

Snape had reached for one of the hex-grenades, and pointed his wand at it. A flash of green hit the orb, lighting it up. With a smirk, Snape tossed it towards Voldemort. But Voldemort didn't wait to see what the brightly glowing ball was or what it did. He turned on his heel and swept out of the room. 

But why wasn't Snape apparating out? 

Harry yipped in frustration. He didn't like Snape, never had and probably never would, but he didn't want the man to die. 

Snape closed his eyes, as though he tried to concentrate. A few feet away, Ivan was still struggling with the three Death Eaters, and the rest of the Death Eaters moved away from the scene, their steps hesitant. 

And then Harry understood. Snape couldn't apparate out of there. Voldemort must have used spells to prevent it. Harry pulled back from the window and barked a warning. But Snape didn't hear him. 

Then Bill pushed Harry aside and banged his fist against the glass. Snape snapped his gaze towards them, and a second later he threw himself at the window. 

Glass splintered everywhere, followed by an explosion of green smoke. Snape fell to the ground, rolling onto his back. 

"Are you all right?" Bill asked, leaning over Snape. 

"Never been better," Snape said, and Harry was relieved to hear his voice. Bill offered Snape a hand, and Snape let himself be pulled to his feet. 

"Some got away," Snape said. Harry glanced inside the room. There were dead bodies scattered across the floor, and Ivan sat on top of one of them, his mouth attached to that man's throat. 

Harry knew some had got away. Voldemort had got away. Blue howled inside his mind, and Harry raised his head towards the full moon in the sky and echoed Blue's call. 

Around him, werewolves answered him, the night's air coming to life with the howls of dozens of wolves. 

Glancing at Moony, who gave a nod, Harry jumped through the shattered window inside the room. Moony, Patrick, Richard and Maggie followed, while Harry's friends rushed towards the main door. Dumbledore opened it, and everyone – Order members and werewolves -- hurried inside the house. 

"There you are," Ivan said, blood dripping down his chin. He looked like himself again. Apparently the impact of the Killing Curse combined with consuming human blood had canceled the magic inside him. "Let's find the rest of them."

Harry yipped, the trepidation he'd felt all day gone, replaced by Blue's desire to maim and kill, and Harry let that feeling surface, let it come to a boil inside him. 

"Stay close," Ivan said to Duncan, who'd climbed through the window after them. "This way." 

Ivan led them inside a corridor, and then through a door into a large room. What they found there was pandemonium. 

Vampires, their bodies covered in black blood from the Dementor attack, ripping into terrified Death Eaters. The few Death Eaters who managed to get away met growling werewolves on their way out. Blood gushed across the room's marble floor, and death shrieks were cut off by snapping jaws and ripping claws. 

Harry stopped to look at the scene. He felt repulsed, his stomach turning, while Blue tried to break out to join the slaughter. 

"Leave them!" Ivan yelled, and rushed through another door. The room was dark, but moonlight reflected off a few white masks. Harry raised his lip, growling at the four Death Eaters trying to hide in the shadows. Moony stood beside him, body stiff and tail raised. Slowly, they drove the Death Eaters back against the wall. 

"I'll give you a choice," Ivan said, flashing his fangs at the Death Eaters. "You break your wands right now, and I'll tell my puppies not to tear you limb from limb." He patted Patrick's head as though he were a Cocker Spaniel rather than a murderous beast. 

Three Death Eaters did what Ivan told them; they snapped their wands and threw the pieces to the floor. But the fourth Death Eater produced a small ax, broke the handle in two, and before anyone could stop him, he threw himself at Duncan, driving the makeshift stake into Duncan's chest. 

Ivan released a growl that could rival any werewolf's, and grabbed the Death Eater's head with both hands, snapping his neck with so much force his head stood sideways. Duncan sank to his knees, his eyes wide and his mouth opened. He hit the floor the same moment the lifeless Death Eater did. A white mask fell to the side, and Harry recognized the man's face. 

It was Macnair. 

"Duncan?" Ivan leaned over Duncan, hands curled in Duncan's shirt as he shook him. "Duncan!"

"Dude," Duncan whispered, sounding pained. "That hurts."

Ivan pulled the stake from Duncan's chest and examined the wound. Blood trickled down Duncan's shirt, coloring it crimson. 

"I think he missed," Duncan said, his eyes still wide. 

"He did." Ivan's shoulders sagged, and he pressed his hand against the wound on Duncan's chest. The bleeding stopped after a few moments. "Can you get up?"

"Yeah, think so." Duncan let Ivan pull him to his feet, and he swayed for a moment before he steadied himself, leaning on Ivan's arm. Ivan looked like he wanted to hit Duncan on his head or call him a few choice names, but then he released a sigh, and wrapped his arm around Duncan's waist to help him stay on his feet. 

"Let's find that snake," Ivan said. 

"What about them?" Duncan asked, nodding towards the three disarmed Death Eaters. 

"If they're smart, they'll stay here and wait until a few wizards come to collect them. If they're not, they'll try to escape and they'll meet the rest of our clan." Ivan grinned at the Death Eaters. "I suggest you wait here."

Harry didn't wait to see what the Death Eaters decided to do. He had to find Voldemort, and he had to find Sirius. And the longer they waited, the more chance they gave Voldemort to kill Sirius. Moony apparently thought the same thing, and yipped urgently as he followed Harry towards the next room. 

They found the twins there, pointing their wands at Lucius Malfoy.

"Come on, Malfoy, drop your wand," Fred said, flicking his own wand at Malfoy. 

"Oh, look, reinforcement," George said, as Harry and the others entered the room. 

"Do you Weasleys really believe you can disarm me?" Malfoy sneered, tightening his fingers around his wand. "You'll need a bigger army than just these few filthy beasts."

"Malfoy?" Ivan asked, curving an eyebrow. "That's the bloke who talked nasty things about you in the newspaper, isn't that right, puppy?"

Harry nodded his head, eyes fixed on Malfoy as he let out a growl. 

"Let's show him how fast a filthy beast like myself can be." Ivan snatched Malfoy's wand from his hand and snapped it in two before Malfoy could even think about moving out of the way. 

Malfoy's eyes widened, but only for a moment. Then he sneered at the twins again. "You don't have the courage to kill me."

A loud growl sounded behind Harry, and Harry knew what that meant. Richard wanted to pass through, and Harry stepped to the side. Richard stalked forward, hackles raised. He stopped in front of Malfoy, and for a moment Harry thought Richard would tear his throat out. 

But Richard did no such thing. Instead, Richard sank his teeth in Malfoy's thigh, shaking his head once. Malfoy screamed, trying to kick at Richard, but his legs gave in and he sank to the floor. 

And Harry understood what Richard had done. For someone like Malfoy, an infection was a far worse punishment than death.

"Who's the filthy beast now, Malfoy?" Ivan said, offering Malfoy a smirk. "Can you take it from here, redsies?"

"Yeah, no problem," Fred said. 

"He's not going anywhere," George added. 

"This way." Ivan pushed another door open. "I can smell that snake nearby."

Harry rushed inside the next room, but he never saw who occupied it. Blinding pain ripped through his head, breaking the connection wide open, and Harry's world turned black before he found himself lying on his back in the white room. 

Voldemort stared down at him, eyes narrowed in obvious rage. Harry looked up at him for a second before he noticed his own legs. He was human again. He was human in the white room. 

And then more pain ripped through Harry, setting his nerves on fire. For a moment, Harry was sure Voldemort had somehow managed to cast a Cruciatus on him, but as he saw Voldemort from the corner of his eyes, he noticed Voldemort's shocked expression. 

Squeezing his eyes shut against the searing sensation inside him, Harry gasped for breath and tried to get to his feet. But his body refused to move until finally the pain ebbed away, leaving his heart hammering and his limbs tingling. 

Harry blinked his eyes open, trying to see things in focus, and when the white room came back into view, Harry stared into Blue's hazel eyes.


	25. Chapter 24

Harry's mouth sank open as he looked at the enormous dark-grey werewolf. Blue was there? But how could Blue be – 

Of course Blue was there! They shared a soul, two souls merged into one. And it took the night of the full moon for Blue's side to manifest itself.

"Blue?" Harry asked, unsure how Blue would to react to seeing him. To seeing them separate. 

Lowering his head, Blue wagged his tail and pressed his wet nose against Harry's cheek. It made Harry smile, because he remembered Moony doing the same thing all those months ago when he'd saved Harry. 

Then Blue growled, staring over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned, and narrowed his eyes at Voldemort. Blue's presence gave him hope and strength and courage. He got up to his feet, and took a step towards Voldemort, Blue by his side.

"Where is he?" Harry yelled, resting one hand on Blue's massive head. "Where is Sirius?"

Voldemort released a string of high-pitched laughter. "You foolish child. Do you actually believe I haven't killed that man already?"

Blue drew his lips back, sharp teeth exposed and saliva dripping down his chin. Harry tightened his fingers in the fur on Blue's neck. Voldemort was lying. He had to be. Because Sirius couldn't be --

"You're lying! You're fucking lying!"

Tilting his head, Voldemort gave a little sniff. "Really? I don't think so, Harry. It's certainly admirable the way you barged into my house with your little army of miscreants to save your dear godfather's life. But you are too late. Sirius Black is dead. I killed him the second I got my hands on him. That man actually begged me to spare him. He begged for -- "

"You're lying!" Harry yelled again, and Blue lunged at Voldemort with a fierce growl. But Voldemort was quicker; he yanked his door open and disappeared in the darkness lying behind it. The door fell closed, but that didn't stop Blue from continuing his pursuit. Blue threw his weight at the door and burst right through it, shattering the door that wasn't really there to pieces. 

"Blue!" Harry yelled, and wanted to reach for his wand. But he didn't have his wand. But he did have Blue. Who had disappeared into the darkness, chasing after Voldemort. "Blue!" Harry tried again, but no reply came, and the room remained white, and the space behind the shattered door remained dark. 

"Bugger," Harry muttered, and ran after Blue. The moment he left the room behind, he couldn't see a thing. Everything was black around him, but the darkness wasn't thick or sticky. It wasn't like the darkness Harry had felt when he'd died. 

He was inside Voldemort's mind, he realized, and that grounded his feet to a halt. "Blue?" His voice was softer now, carrying an uncertain tone. "Wait up."

Two eyes lit up in the darkness in front of him, and a sharp yip echoed around him. Blue's head and body drifted into view, and Harry let out a relieved sigh. 

"I can't keep up with you," he said, shaking his head at the werewolf. Blue pushed his shoulder against Harry's thigh, and again, and again, until Harry understood what he meant. 

"You want me to...?"

Another yip, and Harry swung his leg over Blue's back. He was worried Blue wouldn't be able to support his weight, because Blue wasn't as big as Moony, and Harry had grown over the last few months. But they were one. Of course Blue could carry his weight. 

"Find him," Harry said, curling his fingers in the fur of Blue's neck, leaning forward. And Blue took off, his muscled body rippling beneath Harry's thighs. A familiar feeling, though there was no summer wind in his hair this time. No fields of grass beneath them and a blue sky above. Only darkness and silence. 

Blue ran and ran and ran, and just when Harry thought they'd lost Voldemort forever, a vague figure appeared in front of them, running as fast as he could. Blue howled, and Harry clenched his jaws and silently urged Blue to go faster, to pounce on that maniacal bastard who'd killed his godfather. 

No. Sirius wasn't dead. Voldemort was lying. 

Harry kept telling himself that over and over again, because he feared he'd go insane with grief and guilt if he didn't. 

And suddenly the darkness was replaced with light and color and sound, and Harry drew an arm up in front of his face, unsure what happened. Blue never slowed his pace, and rushed after Voldemort, who was still only a few meters away. 

Voldemort ran through a yard, inside a house, and there was a man lying dead in the hallway. Harry lowered his arm enough to see it was his father, body still and eyes wide open. 

But Harry had no time to feel anything at that sight, because Voldemort hurried up the stairs and Blue went after him. And they were inside a small hallway, and Voldemort burst through a door, and there his mother lay dead on the floor, and Voldemort – not their Voldemort – stood leaning over a crib, wand aimed at a very young Harry. 

And Voldemort jumped out the window, and Blue followed, and Harry screamed, sure Blue had just pummeled them to their deaths. But they didn't fall, they just kept running through darkness, and Harry finally understood what had happened. 

Voldemort had dragged a memory up, probably to scare Harry into giving up his pursuit. They'd run straight through Voldemort's memory of the night he'd killed Harry's parents. 

More light and color and sound, and Harry saw a graveyard looming in front of them. Voldemort dashed around the headstones, and Blue followed, and they jumped over Cedric's dead body. And there Harry sat, scared and bleeding, tied to a headstone, and Voldemort stood strong and proud at his side. 

And Harry felt nothing. No pain, no fear, no guilt. Nothing, and he realized he didn't have any feelings because it wasn't his memory. This was Voldemort's memory of that dreadful night. And Harry was too determined to kill Voldemort once and for all to let his own memories surface in his mind. 

Blue howled, because they were gaining on Voldemort, and Harry echoed that howl in his mind. They were going to kill Voldemort, and Harry didn't care if it made him a murderer, if it made him a monster. Voldemort deserved to die. He had to die for all the things he'd done. For killing countless innocent people. For killing Harry's parents. For killing Sirius. 

No!

Not true. 

Darkness made way for more light and color and sound, and Blue and Harry ran through a dark forest, where a grim shadow loomed over a dead unicorn, and little Harry stood there, scared and alone. More light and color and sound, and they rushed through the atrium at the Ministry, where Bellatrix Lestrange sat at Voldemort's feet and Voldemort aimed his wand at Harry. 

Another forest, and Bertha Jorkins lay spasming on the ground, a large snake circling her, baring its fangs. A room, and Death Eaters dropped to their knees, and Voldemort cast a Cruciatus on one of them, and the mask rolled off and Snape's face contorted in pain. A field, and Voldemort walked between a crowd of Dementors, welcoming them. A room, and Wormtail sank to his knees and told Voldemort the location of the Potters. 

More light and color and sound, until everything turned black. Thick, sticky darkness that took Harry's breath away, until all he heard was Blue and himself panting in unison. 

"Dare you follow me here, Harry?" Voldemort's voice rang through the darkness in front of them. 

Harry tried to catch his breath as Blue slowed his pace. "I'm not afraid of death!" Harry yelled, willing himself to believe it. "I've died. Twice!"

Laughter sounded around them, cold and dark like the air suffocating them. 

"You're the one who's afraid of death!" Harry yelled. "You're the one with a half-life!"

"Harry. Brave, foolish, little Harry. You will die if you follow me here."

Glancing down, Harry met Blue's gaze. He nodded. "If I die, so will you, you fucking bastard!" 

And Blue picked up speed, clawing through the thick, sticky darkness around them. Harry tried not to think that they'd entered death, that they'd chased Voldemort all the way to the end of their lives. He'd been here before. He had no reason to be scared. He'd always made it back in the past. And Blue was with him. He wasn't alone. He wasn't going to die, but Voldemort was. 

"Get him, get him, get him," Harry chanted, finding strength in those words. "Get him, get him, get him."

Voldemort hurried away, his body blurred as darkness tried to absorb him. Blue followed him as fast as he could, showing no signs of exhaustion or hesitance. And Harry held onto him and didn't think how on earth he'd ever find his way back this time. Blue was there. Blue would know. 

The air became cold, so cold Harry's breath turned to wasps of white fog. Harry shivered, and he got the distinct feeling they were going down. But the darkness was thick and Harry couldn't see anything save for Voldemort's faint shape trying to get away from them. 

Blue ran and Harry shivered and Voldemort lost speed and distance. There was a faint shimmer of light around them, chilling and blue, though it didn't seem to have a source. Harry saw Voldemort clearer now, and Blue snapped his jaws as they gained on him. 

And then Voldemort disappeared with a shocked scream as he dropped over the edge of an abyss. And Blue was running so fast, he couldn't stop, no matter how hard Harry pulled on his neck. 

They fell and fell and fell, and Harry flailed his arms and legs, screaming in mortal fear. 

Something closed around his wrist, tight and cold, and Harry grabbed for the nearest thing in reflex, his fingers curling around a patch of Blue's fur. But it dissolved, something warm leaking into his hand, up his arm. 

And before Harry knew what had happened, he was pulled back onto the solid part of darkness. 

"Hello, puppy. Come here often?" a familiar voice whispered in his ear. Harry turned in surprise, and he had never been so glad to see a vampire in his entire life.

"Ivan!" Harry threw his arms around Ivan's neck, burying his face in Ivan's long hair. And then he remembered. "Blue! He fell over that edge." Harry tore himself away from Ivan, and tried to peek over the edge, but Ivan pulled him back. 

"Stay away from there, puppy."

"What is it?" Harry tried to see something through the impenetrable darkness, but there was no light or color or sound. 

"I'm not sure. I do know that nothing ever returns from it." Ivan pulled Harry to his feet, and Harry frowned at him. 

"But Blue -- "

"Your wolf is a part you. Always has been. He's still inside you." 

"Huh?"

"Don't ask me for specifics, but I can smell you're still a werewolf, puppy." Ivan offered Harry a bright smile. "Now, let's get out of here. We don't have much time."

"What?" Harry let Ivan lead him away form the abyss, but he felt dizzy with confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Ivan shrugged. "I had a hunch you wouldn't find your own way out of here, puppy."

"I have before," Harry said, unsure why Ivan would think such a thing.

"No, you haven't. This isn't the twilight. This is the underworld."

"Huh?" Harry wanted to slow down, but Ivan pulled him along. 

"The underworld. Hell. Hades. Whatever you want to call it."

"This is...hell?" Harry stammered, his breath caught in his throat. "How did you find me?"

"I can follow you everywhere you go," Ivan said, licking his lips. "You've given me your blood, remember?"

"Ah." Harry considered that, and tried to keep up with Ivan's hurried steps. "But how do you know where hell is? I thought you only went to the dark and sticky place when you rest."

"True," Ivan said, lowering his gaze. He sighed. "In the past, I've tried to gain access to the light. Unfinished business, you know."

Ivan didn't need to explain that further. Harry understood he was talking about his wife and child. 

"But the people upstairs weren't all that keen on letting someone with my record in, so they threw my arse inside this godforsaken place."

"So just now you tried to get inside the light again?"

"Aren't you clever?" Ivan smirked. "I suggest we stop talking and keep moving. We haven't the time to linger. I promise I'll tell you my entire life story once we're back inside the land of the living."

"Why are we in a hurry?" Harry asked. He was starting to feel tired, and he was so cold, and he really just wanted to sit down for a while. 

"Because while you're stuck here, your body is dying," Ivan said, his voice tight. "If you don't get back soon, there won't be a living body left for you to return to."

Harry swallowed. "All right." He willed himself to keep moving, to keep up with Ivan, to forget how cold and dark it was around them. They kept quiet for a while, Ivan's hand locked around Harry's arm. But Harry's feet weighed a ton, and it was so difficult not to stop walking. 

And then he remembered. "Oh god, Sirius is dead. Voldemort killed him."

"He's not dead," Ivan snapped, yanking on Harry's arm, but Harry sagged to the ground. 

"But Voldemort said -- "

"Listen," Ivan said, pulling Harry up again and dragging him along. "It's this place that's giving you these thoughts. If dogboy were dead, I'd know it. I drank his blood, didn't I?"

Harry stared at Ivan, his feet stumbling through the darkness. "You're lying," he said, though he had a hard time believing his own words. 

"I'll toss you over my shoulder if you don't stop it right now!"

"He's dead," Harry muttered, and followed Ivan as best he could. "He's dead. He's dead."

"He is not dead!" 

Harry sighed. He didn't think he'd ever felt that lonely and meaningless before. Sirius was dead. He just knew it. Sirius was dead because Voldemort had killed him. He glanced up, and saw a faint light in the distance. His grieving thoughts melted away, and he squared his shoulders. 

"What's that?"

"I'm not sure," Ivan said, narrowing his eyes. "Let's find out."

"Perhaps it's a way out," Harry said, his feet picking up pace. He really wanted to get out of hell or the underworld or wherever they were.

Ivan gave him a dubious look, but his stride also became lighter and quicker. The small light grew larger and larger, and the closer they got, the faster Harry started to walk, until he was running when they almost reached it. 

There was a room in that light. Harry narrowed his eyes, reaching for Ivan's hand, unsure what lay ahead of them. 

There was a room, and it looked familiar, with stone benches rising. Harry recognized it. 

"It's the Ministry!" he yelled, wanting to dive right through the veil back into his own world. "It's the veil in the Department of Mysteries."

But Ivan held him back. "No! Your body isn't there. Your body will die if you leave the underworld now, and you'll end up a spirit."

Harry's eyes widened, and he drew back from the veil, Ivan's body pressed against his a small comfort through the shock he felt. "Okay," he whispered, and glanced up at Ivan. "Let's go back the way we came then."

"Exactly," Ivan said, and they turned, and continued their walk through the thick darkness swallowing them. "Leave it to bloody sorcerers to have an open connection with the underworld. You're insane, the lot of you."

Harry couldn't argue with that. They walked and walked, and the deeper they penetrated the darkness, the gloomier Harry's thoughts became. Sirius was dead. But no, Ivan said he wasn't. But Sirius was dead, Harry just knew it. And it was his fault. He'd killed Sirius. 

A tug on his arm snapped him out of his thoughts, but only for a moment. "He's dead," he whispered. 

"He's not dead," Ivan whispered back. "Don't let this place get to you, puppy. You don't want to spend eternity here."

Harry shuddered at the thought. 

"He's not dead," he whispered, trying focus his mind on that thought. "He's not dead. He's not dead. He's dead. He's dead."

Ivan released a tired sigh, and then made a sharp turn to the left. "We're close."

That caught Harry's attention, and he tried to concentrate on leaving the underworld, on being back inside his body again, alive and well, and on finding Sirius, and hugging Sirius, and kissing Sirius, and Sirius was dead. Sirius was dead and Harry had killed him. 

"Right," Ivan said, halting. Harry looked up, and saw they were standing in what appeared to be a large, dark, cave-like room. And there were tunnels. Dozens of tunnels. Hundreds of tunnels. So many tunnels Harry felt dizzy just looking at them. 

"This may be a slight problem," Ivan said, giving Harry a careful look. "The last time I was here, it took me two months to find the correct exit."

Harry's jaw sank open. "Two months? But then I'll -- "

"You'll be dead and decomposed, yes, I know." Ivan closed his eyes. "Let me think."

Worrying his lip, Harry stared at Ivan, and willed him to remember which tunnel they should take. Ivan stood still, head lowered, nostrils flaring now and then. It didn't look like he knew, Harry thought, and he bit his lip hard enough he tasted blood. 

And then he heard a strange sound drifting across the darkness. Light and sweet, and it made all Harry's worries melt away. He knew that song. 

Fawkes. 

"This way," Harry said, pulling on Ivan's arm. 

"Wait, puppy," Ivan said, trying to stop Harry. 

"No, it's Fawkes! This way."

"Fawkes?"

"The big, yellow chicken," Harry said with a chuckle. "A phoenix. Oh god, that's what Duncan read in that book."

"Duncan?" Ivan looked confused. "What are you blathering about?"

"Don't you hear it? It's the song of a phoenix. According to that book, it can wake the dead. It makes sense now, doesn't it?"

Ivan still didn't look convinced. "I don't hear a thing, puppy."

But Harry heard it, clear as day. Fawkes' melodious tones luring him towards a tunnel on their right. "Trust me. It's Fawkes. He's helped me before."

"All right. Since I haven't got any better ideas, we might as well give it a try." Ivan allowed Harry to take his hand and lead him to the dark tunnel gaping ahead of them. 

And for the first time since Sirius had disappeared, Harry believed things might actually be all right. Fawkes called him, tempted him, and Harry's steps were light and a warmth settled around his heart. Ivan followed him, glancing around with a frown, but Harry knew exactly which tunnel to take. 

It was dark and cramped, but Fawkes' song was there to guide him, and Harry walked faster and faster, until the air became less cold and less thick, and he felt like he could breathe again. 

 

"The twilight," Ivan said, when they stepped outside the tunnel into more darkness. "Now we just have to -- "

A light as bright as the sun wrapped around them, and Ivan fell back, landing flat on his arse.

"I'm a fucking vampire. I'd appreciate it if everyone cut it out with the lights already." Ivan sat on the ground, knees drawn up and arms curled over his head. 

"It's not real," Harry said helpfully, narrowing his eyes to see something beyond the light. There was something there...a house. They were standing in front of a house. 

"I knew that," Ivan said, brushing invisible dirt off his thighs as he got up. He looked around, his eyes widening. "Puppy, we're in the light."

"Yeah. What does it do?"

"We're in the light. I'm in the light. Don't you see? I should have been on a one-way-trip back to the bloody underworld by now."

Harry glanced at Ivan. "Oh." He looked at the house again. It looked familiar. "Come on," he said, and tugged on Ivan's hand. "Let's see who lives here."

"Might as well." 

Taking cautious steps, Harry walked closer and closer to the house. The light was still almost too bright to look at, and it felt warm and comforting. 

"Oh god," Harry gasped, when he realized where they were. "It's my parents' house. It's where – they got killed here. I almost got killed here." He reached for the handle on the front door, and said in a small voice, "Ivan?"

"I'm right behind you, puppy." Ivan put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and followed him through the door. 

The house looked so familiar. It smelled familiar, like his bedroom at Grimmauld Place, but sweeter somehow. And everything was so light, as if it glowed from within. There were voices coming from the back, and Harry walked inside the living room, and saw his parents in the yard, sitting side by side on the terrace, sun illuminating them. 

"Mum?" Harry called, an odd lump forming in his throat. "Dad?"

His father turned in his seat, and broke out in a bright smile when he saw Harry through the window. "Harry!"

"Dad!" Harry ran through the kitchen and out the back door, straight into his father's arms. 

"Oh, Harry," his mother said, joining their embrace. Harry didn't want them to ever let him go again, but they did. 

"Let me get a good look at you," his father said, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders. 

"Dad?" Harry said, and noticed his cheeks were moist. He quickly wiped his palm across his face. "I killed him. I killed Voldemort."

His mother gave him a radiant smile, and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you," she said. "You make us so proud."

"And there's more I have to tell you," Harry said, almost stumbling over his tongue. "I'm gay."

His father, who'd just noticed Ivan standing in the doorway, raised his eyebrows. "Oh. That's fine, Harry. And is he...um...your boyfriend?"

Ivan smirked. "Oh no, don't worry. I'm just the tour guide." He flashed his fangs at James, who took a quick step back. 

"That's Ivan," Harry said, talking as fast as he could. He felt as though he were running out of time. "He's helped us. He's with Patrick, who's infected Remus. Oh, and Remus infected me. I'm a werewolf. I hope you don't mind. And I'm with Sirius and Remus. They're my...er...boyfriends."

"Well," James said, and glanced at Lily. She rolled her eyes and smiled at Harry. 

"Do Sirius and Remus take good care of you. Do they make you happy?" she asked. Harry nodded. "Then I'm happy for you. I love you, Harry. I want you to go and live your life as best you can. You're free to do so now."

Harry swallowed, and nodded again. His father grabbed him in a tight hug, and when he released him, his mother embraced him. 

"You have to get back now, Harry," his father said. 

"There isn't much time left," his mother added. 

"All right," Harry said, though his heart felt like it broke into two pieces. "I...er...I love you."

"We love you, too," his mother said. And then Harry remembered something else. 

"One last thing, please. Sirius – He thinks it's his fault you died. He's been blaming himself, and it's hurting him. I think."

James frowned, and shook his head. "You tell that stubborn idiot it wasn't his fault. He didn't know it was Wormtail. No one knew. We know the truth now, and Sirius has always been my best friend. My brother. If he doesn't stop blaming himself, I'll come back to haunt him. You tell him that, Harry."

"Okay. Thanks," Harry whispered. 

"Go now, Harry." Lily smiled, and Harry felt Ivan grab his hand. 

"And don't come back until you're old and have died of natural causes," James said, and Harry grinned and waved at them before Ivan pulled him back inside the house. The kitchen dissolved around them, and they were left in darkness once again. 

"Well," Harry said, and wiped at his face. Ivan looked as though he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head, slung his arm around Harry's shoulders, and pressed a kiss to Harry's temple. 

"Let's get you back to your body, puppy." 

Harry nodded, and wanted to follow Ivan, but a new light enveloped them. Harry narrowed his eyes, and saw mountains in the background. 

"Oh, bloody hell, no," Ivan said, standing rooted to the spot. "Not now. I haven't the time now!"

Grass formed beneath their feet, and stretched out and out, and there was a cottage, and two figures standing in front of it, one tall and one small. 

"Go," Harry said, giving Ivan a gentle push in his back. 

"But I have to get you back, puppy."

"We're in the twilight. I can find my own way back." Harry smiled, and pretended not to see Ivan's eyes filling with tears. 

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go!"

Ivan nodded, gave Harry a smile that made him look human, and ran across the grass towards the woman and child. Harry didn't wait to see what happened next. He turned around and rushed back inside the darkness. 

He had to find Remus. And Sirius. He had to find his way back to his pack. Harry ran and ran, following his instinct, following Blue who gave him silent directions in his mind. 

And then he tumbled, and slid down something fast, and faster, until he was sure he was going to crash. 

"Miss Granger, I don't see why I should continue this ridiculous behavior!"

Snape's voice. Well, so much for his pack. Harry slid through darkness, and Moony was there. He could smell Moony nearby.

"Sir, you have to keep Harry's body alive. You heard what Duncan told us."

Hermione was there. And Patrick. Harry could smell Patrick.

"I've been massaging the boy – the beast for near fifteen minutes!"

Snape was massaging him? Harry slid through darkness, and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Snape's face, sweat gathering on the man's forehead. 

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, and Harry tried to move his head. He felt hands on his chest, pressing down again and again. Snape was giving him heart massage.

Then a warm tongue licked over his nose, and Harry looked up and saw Moony smiling at him, wagging his tail. 

Harry was still a wolf, he was still Blue. He'd found his body. He'd found his pack. He moved his legs, trying to roll over and get up, and Snape jumped back. 

"Harry, you're alive," Hermione said, pressing her fingers to her mouth. Harry yipped in response, and finally managed to get his paws on the floor. He looked around, and noticed Ivan's still body lying close by. Patrick stood by his side, sniffing Ivan's cheek, tail low and ears drooped. 

Harry wanted to tell Patrick that Ivan would be all right, that Ivan was just visiting the light. But he couldn't talk, so he stepped up to Patrick, and licked Patrick's snout, wagging his tail as fast as he could. He hoped Patrick would understand the message. 

Glancing up, Patrick pressed his head against Harry's, his tail rising just a bit. He understood, Harry thought.

Ivan snapped his eyes open, and sat up at once. Patrick barked in excitement, and Ivan dropped one hand on Patrick's head. "I'm all right," he said, and wiped across his eyes with his other hand. "What a ride."

Harry laughed, and it sounded like strangled snorts. Ivan gave him a smile and a wink, and pushed himself to his feet. 

"Let's find your dog, puppy."

Moony howled, and Harry answered him. Ivan rushed across the room, Moony and Patrick on his heels. And Harry wanted to follow them, but he stopped dead in his tracks. 

There, in the middle of the room, lay Voldemort's corpse. 

"Is he dead, Potter?" Snape asked. 

Harry nodded his head. 

Snape reached for one of the decorative axes mounted on the wall, pulled it down, and tightened his fingers around the handle. "Then let's make sure he stays dead this time." Snape drew the ax back, and slammed it down. Voldemort's severed head rolled a few feet across the marble floor. Then Snape buried the ax in Voldemort's chest, splicing it open. 

"That should do," Snape said, sounding out of breath. He leaned a hand on the wall, lowering his head. "Well done, Potter."

Harry stared at him for a few moments, unsure what he should think or feel. 

"Dude!" Duncan called from the doorway. 

That snapped Harry back into action, and he dashed out of the room. He could smell Moony and Patrick and Ivan, and he followed the little blots of scent he saw on the floor in front of him. 

"Ow."

Harry slowed, and glanced over his shoulder. Duncan stood in the hallway, hand pressed over his heart. He couldn't keep up. Harry sighed, and trotted back to Duncan. Then he pushed himself against Duncan's thighs, just like Blue had done with him. And Duncan got the message. 

"Thanks, dude," he said, climbing on top of Harry's back. Harry waited until Duncan had grabbed hold of his fur, and then he took off again in pursuit of his pack. He ran through the hallway, the little trail of spots leading him to another room, and out of it again, and then another room, and out -- 

"Crucio!"

Harry crashed to the floor, body convulsing as scorching pain whipped through him. He tried to see where it came from, and he tried to see what had happened to Duncan, but he couldn't raise his head. Fire washed through his veins, and Harry thought he was going to pass out. 

The pain ebbed away in slow waves. 

"Dude!"

Lolling his head to the side, Harry saw Duncan sitting up on the floor, eyes wide as he stared at someone on Harry's other side. Harry turned his head, and a sharp growl escaped him. 

Wormtail. 

"Hello, Harry," Pettigrew said, wand clutched tightly in his hand. "You killed him, didn't you?"

Harry's growl deepened, and he raised his lips, but his body was still too sore and stiff to move a muscle. 

"You killed him!" Pettigrew sounded mad and desperate. "Crucio!"

"Dude, stop it!" Duncan yelled. Harry cried out in pain, and it came out as a strangled howl. He needed his pack. He needed Moony. He saw Duncan from the corner of his eye, blurred and faint. Ducan was pack. He willed Duncan to do something, but Duncan looked too shocked by seeing Harry thrash in pain. 

"Let's see how long it takes for a werewolf to lose his mind under the Cruciatus!" Pettigrew cackled, mouth quirked up in an insane smile. 

"Stop it!" Duncan yelled again. Harry could do nothing against the overwhelming pain, and his mind threatened to cave and submit to the darkness that loomed inside Harry's head. 

"I said, stop it!" Something rushed over Harry, followed by the sound of a quick snap. The pain stopped, and Harry's nerves trembled, his legs jerking a few times more. 

"Do you think I need my wand, boy?" Pettigrew sounded closer than he'd done before. "I'll just tear his heart out with my bare hand." Something metal – silver! -- flashed in front of Harry's eyes, and he tried to push himself away, but his limbs refused to function. 

And then Duncan came into view as he pounced on top of Pettigrew and pressed him against the floor. "You lay one finger on him, and I will tear your throat out, understand?"

Harry stared at Duncan, and he'd never seen Duncan look so threatening before as he leaned over Pettigrew, his eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled, and fangs exposed. 

"Harry!" Hermione called, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. 

"Harry?" Ron's voice, and Harry wagged his tail once to show them he was still alive. 

"Puppy, we found him!" Ivan skidded to halt inside the room, and stared at Duncan with his eyes wide in surprise. Duncan noticed him, and his expression relaxed. He pushed himself off Pettigrew and gave Ivan a shrug. 

"We'll take it from here, mate," Ron said, aiming his wand at Pettigrew. "He's not going anywhere this time."

Harry hardly heard it, because all he could think of were Ivan's words. They'd found Sirius. There were arms around him, pulling him onto his feet. Harry saw Ivan and Duncan looking down at him while he tried to find his balance. 

"Duncan, go with those mortals," Ivan said, gesturing at Neville and Ginny, who'd just walked inside the room. "Find someone with knowledge of medicine. And bring them, quickly."

"Sure," Duncan said, and grabbed Neville and Ginny by the arm as he hurried out of the room. 

"He's alive," Ivan said, stroking his hand over Harry's head. "But he's...injured."

Harry released an impatient groan, and Ivan gave a nod and left the room. Harry followed him through a corridor, up two flights of stairs, and then he smelled it. 

Blood. 

Pushing Ivan out of the way, Harry jumped inside the small room, and saw Sirius lying on the floor. He was naked, and his entire body was covered in deep cuts and lacerations. His eyes were closed, and his long hair was caked with dried blood, and he wasn't moving. Moony and Patrick stood on either side of him, Moony's tail curled tightly between his legs. 

Harry wanted to yell Sirius' name, wanted to yell at him to wake up because they were there now. Moony and Harry were there, and they were together again, like they were supposed to be. 

Gently, Harry sniffed Sirius' cheek, and gave soft licks over Sirius' lips. 

"Puppy," Ivan said, kneeling beside Sirius. He pressed his fingers to Sirius' throat. "His pulse is weak. Very weak. He's lost a lot of blood."

Harry whined, pushing his nose against the side of Sirius' head. 

"I'm not sure if he'll – I can turn him." Ivan glanced up at Harry, eyes shadowed. "I can turn him right now. "

Harry lowered his head, glancing at Moony, but Moony looked just as lost as Harry felt. Ivan could turn Sirius, and then Sirius would live. But Sirius didn't want immortality. Sirius wanted a normal – short – life. 

Something inside Harry broke, shattered into countless pieces. He shook his head, because he knew Sirius wouldn't want it. Then he raised his nose in the air and howled, long and deep. Moony joined in, as did Patrick. 

Nodding, Ivan sat down on the floor, keeping his hand on Sirius' throat. "Come on, dogboy," he whispered. "You're far too stubborn to kick it like this. I know death, and this isn't it. Listen to your fuck buddies. They're right here. Listen to them, and whatever the hell you do, don't walk towards any light."

"Out of my way," a high voice shrieked. Pomfrey rushed inside the room, carrying a large, leather bag. "Out! All of you!"

Harry closed his mouth and backed away, giving Pomfrey the room she needed. McGonagall and Hooch were there as well, but they hovered in the doorway, brows furrowed in concern. 

"Look at this mess," Pomfrey said, flipping her bag open. She pulled several vials out, and cupped the back of Sirius' head so she could pour them down his throat one by one. Then she reached for her wand, and started healing the bleeding wounds on Sirius' body. 

Harry watched, standing close to Moony, and he hoped, wished, prayed Pomfrey would cure him. Ivan joined them, standing a respectful distance away from Pomfrey as she cast spell after spell. 

And then Sirius' head moved, falling to the side, and his eyes opened. Harry barked, and Sirius blinked his eyes. "Harry," he whispered. "Moony."

"Be quiet, Mr Black," Pomfrey said in her usual curt tone. "You're in no state to speak. Or move."

Harry wanted to skip around, and he bumped his shoulder against Moony and licked Moony's nose. Sirius was alive. 

"Told you so, puppy." Ivan smirked, though his tone belied it. Ivan sounded quite relieved. And Harry wagged his tail, and watched Sirius watch them. 

"These blood-replenishing potions take a few moments to work," Pomfrey said. She was almost done with healing the cuts. "No broken bones. No internal damage. Though I suspect you'll have a severe headache for the rest of the night from the blood loss."

Pomfrey administered a few more potions, and then helped Sirius sit up. "How are you feeling now, Mr Black?"

"Like a piece of Death Eater scum took great bloody pleasure in torturing me this afternoon," Sirius said, and managed a grin.

"Yes, I should expect so," Pomfrey said, and her lips curled up in a tiny smile. McGonagall transfigured one of the curtains into a black cloak, and handed it to Sirius. 

As Sirius put the cloak on, he stared at Harry. "Did you – is he dead?"

Harry nodded his head, his tail wagging.

"The puppy killed the snake. He chased him right into hell itself, the brave little bugger, and then tipped him over the edge. Of course, he went over after him, and yours truly was there just in time to pull him out. And we'll all live happily ever after."

Sirius stared at Ivan as though he'd just claimed the earth was flat. Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but in his wolf form it came out as more of a roll of his head. 

"It's the truth, isn't it, puppy?" Ivan seemed very pleased with himself, and Harry bumped his shoulder against Ivan's legs, both in confirmation and to urge him to keep his mouth shut.

"Well, as long as he's dead good and proper," Sirius said, and tried to get to his feet. Pomfrey grabbed his arm, but she didn't manage to support him. Ivan grabbed Sirius' other arm, and helped him upright. 

"Welcome back, dogboy," Ivan said, looking Sirius up and down. "You look delectable. I want to lick you all over."

"Couldn't you have left the stiff there, Harry?" Sirius asked, but a grin tugged on his lips. And he seemed grateful for Ivan's assistance, leaning on him while he took small steps towards the door. 

Harry snorted with laughter, and rubbed his head against Sirius' thigh. Sirius was alive. That was all that mattered. 

They followed Sirius and Ivan out the door and down the stairs. And Harry was so happy and excited, he bounced and bumped into Moony over and over again, and Moony allowed it, because he seemed happy, too. Patrick followed them, calm and controlled as ever, though his tail wagged a little faster than it usually did, and Duncan closed the line. 

Their pack was complete.

"Sirius!" Hermione screeched in surprise. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Sirius said, and he looked as though he wanted to say more, but he spotted the man lying bound at Ron's feet. 

"You bastard!" And with strength Harry didn't know Sirius possessed at that moment, Sirius threw himself at Wormtail, smashing his fists in Wormtail's face. Harry whimpered, and Moony growled, and Sirius kept punching Wormtail, until his nose was a bloody mess and blood dripped down his face to the floor. 

"Sirius," Hermione said softly, taking a careful step towards him. "Don't. You need him alive. He's the only one who can prove your innocence."

Not for the first time in his life, Harry was glad Hermione was so smart and so reasonable.

Releasing a shaky breath, Sirius drew back from Wormtail. He accepted Ivan's arm, and used it as support to get back to his feet. 

"I bet that felt good," Ivan said, giving Sirius an approving smile. 

"You better believe it." Sirius stared down at Wormtail, eyes narrowed. "I've waited sixteen years to give that rat what he deserves. And it's only because I need your arse alive, Wormtail, that I won't kill you right here on the spot." He gave Hermione a small smile, and let Ivan lead him out of the room. 

Harry followed them, as did the rest, Ron casting a quick spell on Wormtail so he floated behind him. 

They found Dumbledore in the main room, where Snape had presented Voldemort with Ivan earlier that evening. And Dumbledore wasn't alone. Fudge was with him, surrounded by a small group of Aurors. 

"Ah, there they are," Dumbledore said, nodding at Harry and his friends. Fudge's eyes widened at the sight of the werewolves, and he took a few steps back. 

"Harry was able to kill Voldemort," Dumbledore said, lips curving up. "But he didn't do it alone."

"Is that Sirius Black?" Fudge said, blood draining from his face. 

"Why yes, it is. And look who's with him. Peter Pettigrew," Dumbledore said, gesturing at an unconscious Wormtail. "If you let your Aurors interrogate Mr Pettigrew, you'll quickly learn it was he who betrayed the Potters. Sirius is an innocent man."

"I'll take him," a deep voice said, and Kingsley stepped forward through the group of Aurors to collect Wormtail. "We have a bottle of Veritaserum with your name on it waiting for you at the Ministry, Mr Pettigrew." He winked at Sirius, and then transported Pettigrew out of the room. 

"Well," Fudge said, looking overwhelmed. 

"As I was saying, Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, but he didn't do it alone." Dumbledore gestured towards Ivan. "Mr Storkavic was there to assist him. I believe he saved Harry's life." Dumbledore turned and waved at Snape, who stood a few feet away, inspecting a deep cut on Bill's cheek. "As did Professor Snape. And it was his role as a spy that allowed us to take Voldemort by surprise this evening. Surely the least he deserves is an Order of Merlin, first class, don't you agree, Minister?"

"Of course," Fudge said, though he sounded like he didn't know what he was agreeing to, exactly. 

"And Mr Bill Weasley's expertise in breaking curses gave us the opportunity to approach Voldemort's house undetected."

Bill gave Dumbledore a wide grin, and Snape kept his expression guarded, though Harry could see the corners of his mouth twitch.

"And it was Mr Fred and George Weasley's ingenious knowledge of magic that made it possible to take out a room full of Death Eaters," Dumbledore continued, nodding at Fred and George, who'd joined them and stood with their arms around Duncan's shoulders. 

"And Mr Duncan...?"

"Duncan Fisher, sir," Duncan said, beaming. 

"And Mr Fisher saved Harry's life when Mr Pettigrew tried to kill him," Dumbledore said, nodding at Duncan. "Mr Ron Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger apprehended Mr Pettigrew alive, allowing for the truth to finally be heard after all these years."

Ron scoffed his shoe against the floor, and Hermione smiled at Fudge, which seemed to unsettle him. 

"And these werewolves kept by Harry's side at all times, keeping him safe so Harry was able to confront Voldemort." Dumbledore gestured towards the windows. "And all the vampires that have assisted us were able to dispose of the Dementors, which otherwise would have posed an enormous threat to us."

Two more people entered the room; Neville and Ginny halted when they saw all the people gathered there. 

"Ah," Dumbledore said with a generous smile. "And Mr Neville Longbottom and Miss Ginny Weasley were able to defeat Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange in a duel, isn't that so?"

Neville gave a faint nod, while Ginny grinned. 

"So you see, Cornelius, that all these people, and many more, made it possible to defeat Voldemort once and for all."

"Yes, yes," Fudge said, nodding. "And where is Harry Potter?"

Harry shrank back, seeking support between Moony and Patrick. He didn't want Fudge to see him like this. He didn't want Fudge to know what he was. 

"It seems," Dumbledore said, giving Harry a pointed look, "that Harry has already left. He was quite exhausted after his confrontation with Voldemort, as I'm sure you understand."

"Of course." Fudge looked a tad disappointed. 

"Would you like to see the corpse? It's just in the other room." Dumbledore sounded as though he invited Fudge for tea. Fudge nodded eagerly, and followed Dumbledore out. 

Everyone kept silent for a few moments, as Snape and Bill joined their group. Then the twins were the first to speak. 

"Those hex-grenades worked something good, eh, Snape?" Fred said, as George nodded his agreement. 

"You have Mr Fisher to thank for them," George added. 

"Dude, they were awesome," Duncan said, raising his hand. "High five!"

Fred and George stared at Duncan in confusion, and Duncan lowered his hand, muttering, "Never mind."

Snape narrowed his eyes at the twins. "You will destroy your batch of those grenades at once, do you hear me? If I ever see one again, death will be the least of your problems."

"Yes, sir," Fred said, sounding impressed by Snape's vicious tone. George gave a quick nod. 

"Black," Snape said, looking Sirius over once. "I see you're still alive." Snape seemed a bit disappointed. 

Sirius huffed, and then bit his lip. "You saved Harry's life?"

Snape sneered. "For the umpteenth time, yes. I've lost count over the years."

Lowering his gaze, Sirius nodded, and Harry knew that the lack of bickering and insults meant Sirius was grateful for what Snape had done. 

"Here," Bill said, handing a few wands to Sirius. Harry recognized his own. "Do you still have your wand?"

"Nope. Voldemort snapped it in half when they brought me here." Sirius shrugged. "It never did suit me completely, anyway. It was Remus' old wand."

"But with Pettigrew in custody, you'll be able to go out and buy a new wand soon," Hermione said. 

"We'll see," Sirius said, staring at the floor. Harry understood Sirius didn't want to get his hopes up. And Harry agreed, remembering how it had felt when Wormtail had got away in his third year. Moony pressed his nose against Sirius' hand, and Sirius stroked his head. 

"I have a portkey to take you all back to Grimmauld Place," Bill said, handing Sirius a large frying pan. 

"Oh, jolly," Ivan said, staring at the pan, his nose wrinkled. "It's even more sickening than your way of traveling by fire."

"You can always take the bus and hope it will arrive before sunrise," Sirius said, giving Ivan a sweet smile. Ivan sniffed, and placed his hand on the pan. The twins and Duncan followed suit, and then Harry, Moony and Patrick placed their paws on it as well. 

"Bye, Harry. We'll see you soon," Hermione said, and ran her hand through Harry's fur. 

"See you later, mate," Ron said, and petted Harry's head. Neville and Ginny followed his example, and Harry felt strangely warm that his friends dared touch him while he was in his wolf form. He wagged his tail once, twice, and then a pull in his stomach threw him off balance. 

They landed in the kitchen, and Harry was grateful for his four legs. He'd have fallen on his arse otherwise. 

"I'm knackered," Fred said, stretching his arms.

"Completely," George agreed. He winked at Duncan. "You want to turn in for the night?"

"Sure, dude."

"Wait." Ivan grabbed Duncan's shoulder. "How is your wound?"

"Oh, the nice lady healed it. With magic," Duncan said proudly. He pulled part of his blood-stained shirt down, revealing his pale chest. There was no sign a stake had entered there a few hours earlier. 

Ivan seemed repulsed by the idea, and he shook his head. "Good night, Duncan."

"Night, Ivan." Duncan followed the twins out of the kitchen. 

Harry looked at Sirius, who was leaning both hands on the kitchen table, as though he had trouble stranding up. 

"And I think it's time for little doggies to turn in, too," Ivan said in a exaggerated sweet tone. 

Snorting, Sirius didn't object when Ivan grabbed his arm and led him out of the kitchen. Harry, Moony and Patrick trailed after them until they reached the upstairs corridor. 

"Let's get you cleaned up first," Ivan said, guiding Sirius into the bathroom. Sirius still didn't object, though he did give Ivan a suspicious look. Ivan ignored it, and ran the taps, filling the bathtub with warm, steaming water. He ripped off Sirius' cloak without any ceremony, and urged him into the tub. 

"Get some of that oil," Sirius said, waving at the cabinet on the wall. Ivan searched through the vials until he found the bath oil Harry and Remus always used after the night of the full moon. He poured a generous amount in the tub, and then picked up a flannel and started washing Sirius' face. 

"You know, this mother hen role really doesn't suit you," Sirius said, spluttering when Ivan poured water over his head. 

"You'd be surprised how much fathering I've done in my life, dogboy," Ivan said with a peculiar smile. "But I agree. This is more Patrick's role." He glanced at Patrick, who sniffed in reply. "Though seeing that Patrick lacks the use of his hands at the moment, you'll have to make do with me."

Sirius sighed, and allowed Ivan to pour shampoo on his head to wash his hair. And Harry watched them, feeling a warm glow in his chest. Sirius was alive. His pack was alive. And Voldemort was dead. He leaned against Moony, who licked Harry's snout in response. 

"All clean," Ivan said, after he'd finished rinsing Sirius' hair. He helped Sirius out of the tub, and rubbed him dry with a large towel. "Let's get you tucked in."

Ivan helped Sirius to the bedroom, and into the bed. He fluffed Sirius' pillow, pulled the sheets up to Sirius' chin, and pecked him on the cheek. Then he handed one of the wands he found in the pocket of Sirius' cloak – Harry's wand – to Sirius. 

"Now, dogboy, if you could cast one of those silencing thingies on our room, I'd be much obliged," Ivan said, grinning at Patrick. "Since it seems my darling wolf isn't intent on ripping my throat out this evening, there are a few things I'd like to try."

"I knew you wanted something from me, you miserable stiff," Sirius said, shaking his head. He aimed the wand at their guests' room, and muttered the spell. "There. Have your sick way with your wolf."

"No sicker than anything you've done, I assure you." Ivan winked at Sirius, patted both Harry and Moony on their heads, and urged Patrick out the room. The moment he closed the door, Harry and Moony jumped on the bed, and lay down beside Sirius, resting their heads on Sirius' chest. 

"It's good to be home," Sirius said, relaxing against the mattress. His eyes drooped shut. "Perhaps I'll have a kip before you two transform."

And Harry wanted to tell Sirius it was all right to go to sleep. Because he and Moony were there to watch over him, to make sure he was safe. Sirius' breathing evened, and Harry glanced at Moony, wagging his tail against the sheets. Moony let out a contented sigh in response. 

And Harry was happy to watch Sirius sleep for the next few hours, as they waited for the full moon to set. He and Moony dozed, keeping their bodies in contact with Sirius, and Harry felt peaceful and warm, his lupine mind keeping his thoughts simple. His pack was there. Alive. 

The pain struck, and it caught Harry by surprise, because he'd been too busy watching Sirius to feel the moon was close to setting. He and Remus thrashed against the mattress, which woke Sirius up, and he sat up at once. Harry tried to relax his body, knew it was no use to fight the pain, the transformation, and he rode it out as best as he could. 

"Harry?" Remus?" Sirius asked once the transformation was complete. Harry forced his eyes open and smiled at Sirius. He sagged to the bed, nestled between Sirius and Remus. 

"Padfoot," Remus whispered on Harry's left. "Come here."

"Remus," Sirius said, sounding relieved. He leaned over Harry towards Remus. 

"You blithering idiot," Remus said, voice tight. He drew his arm back, and punched Sirius on his jaw. Since Remus had just transformed, there wasn't much force behind it, but it still drew a groan from Sirius. 

Rubbing his jaw, Sirius stared down at Remus in disbelief. "What did you do that for? I've already been tortured today, mind you."

"And you're lucky I'm too weak at the moment, or I'd torture you some more," Remus said, glaring at Sirius. "What were you thinking, running off like that? You could have got us all killed."

Sirius shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. And I told you not to come find me."

"Oh yes, because you know we'd happily let you die," Remus said, shaking his head. 

Sighing, Sirius looked at Harry. "He hit me."

Harry snorted with laughter. "I think you kind of deserved that one," he said, and laughed harder at Sirius' affronted look. Then he reached for Sirius' shoulder and pulled him down so he could press his lips to Sirius'. 

Smiling against Harry's mouth, Sirius answered the kiss, and Harry moaned at the familiar feeling of lips and tongue. Sirius pulled back, and Harry continued to press kisses to Sirius' throat and cheek, Sirius' stubble tickling his lips. 

"See? Harry is happy I'm back."

Remus looked at Sirius, a small smile playing around his mouth. "Sirius. Come here."

"Oh no." Sirius reached for his jaw. 

"I said, come here." Remus narrowed his eyes, and when Sirius finally relented, he grabbed Sirius' chin and pressed a kiss to Sirius' lips. "I love you, but you really are a blithering idiot sometimes."

Sirius grinned, as though Remus had just paid him a compliment. "It all worked out, didn't it?"

"Yes," Remus sighed. "But don't ask how we all managed it."

"How did you?" Sirius asked, snickering at Remus' tired look. 

"We'll tell you all about it in the morning," Remus said, and Harry agreed with him. He felt sore and exhausted and insanely happy Sirius was there with them. He yawned, and when Sirius lay down, he leaned his cheek on Sirius' chest. 

"I missed you," Harry whispered, as Remus pressed close to him, curling his arm around Harry's waist. "We missed you."

"I missed you, too." Sirius said. He looked tired as well, and Harry offered him one last smile before he closed his eyes. There was so much he wanted to ask Sirius, and tell him, but that all had to wait until morning, because Harry's mind gave into the pull of sleep almost at once.


	26. Chapter 25

The first thing Harry saw when he woke up were Sirius' blue eyes watching him. And the first thing he thought was: _what if the last few days had all just been a dream?_

"Is he dead?"

"Last I heard, yeah," Sirius whispered, and pressed a kiss on the tip of Harry's nose. 

"Thank god," Harry said. "I don't want to ever have to do something like that again."

"I can't argue with that." Sirius grinned, and when he stretched his arms above his head, he released a pained moan. 

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked, traveling his gaze down Sirius' naked chest. 

"Tired, sore, still have a bloody headache, and my jaw hurts."

Remus chuckled on Harry's other side, and Harry turned to look at him. But Sirius grabbed Harry's shoulder and rolled him back over. 

"How are _you_ feeling, Harry? You had quite the night. What happened exactly?" Sirius raised his eyebrows, looking as though he expected an elaborate answer. 

"I'm all right. Tired, sore, but that's to be expected." Harry glanced down. He didn't feel like going into detail on how he'd killed Voldemort. It was still too fresh. "I'll tell you what happened later. I think you should tell us what happened to you, though."

"Hear, hear," Remus said, leaning his chin on Harry's shoulder so he could look at Sirius. "What happened after you left here, Padfoot?"

Sirius shrugged and stared up at the ceiling. "I made it as far as Malfoy's mansion. But they were expecting me. I don't remember much after that. I think they kept me stupefied most of the time. Until Wormtail decided to have a little fun with me yesterday afternoon."

"Wormtail did that to you?" Harry asked, shocked. 

"Yeah. He always was a sick little bastard." Sirius narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth. "I hope they throw his treacherous arse to the Dementors."

"That won't be possible," Remus said. At Sirius' questioning look, he added, "Ivan's clan wiped them all out. It turned out that Dementors have no interest in vampires. And that Dementors can be killed by ripping their heads off."

Harry shuddered at the memory of the sounds of tearing flesh. 

"Well, bugger me," Sirius said, looking pleased. 

"Not today," Remus said, grinning. "But I'd say there's a fair chance you'll get buggered tomorrow."

Sirius snorted, and reached over Harry to swat Remus on his head. Sirius' weight on him made Harry aware of his full bladder, and he groaned. 

"I need to piss. And I want a shower."

"Let's all get dressed," Remus said, pushing himself up. "I expect Dumbledore will stop by later for an evaluation."

"More like he'll want to parade his victory," Sirius said. He slipped out between the sheets, and offered Harry a hand to help him up. 

It seemed that all three of them were too sore to do much talking or touching in the bathroom. They showered and shaved and took care of everything else without saying more than a few words. But the mere fact that they were together like that made Harry's heart swell. It was familiar and intimate, and that was all Harry needed to feel on top of the world. 

Of course, knowing Voldemort was dead helped, too. Though that thought still seemed too big to grasp completely. Harry tried not to think about what awaited him – them – in the future, because even though Harry had never wanted it, Voldemort had played an important part in his life. 

Harry felt a bit lost knowing he would never have to worry about Voldemort again. 

They got dressed, and made their way downstairs to the kitchen. And as Harry opened the door, someone was already there, waiting for him. 

"Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby squeaked, bowing so long the tip of his nose touched the floor. "Harry Potter has killed Voldemort. Dumbledore has told us all about it, and we wanted to let Harry Potter know how happy we are with what he's done."

Dobby gestured at the table, which was loaded with food. All types of food – breakfast, lunch and dinner – and enough to feed three large orphanages and still be stuck with leftovers. 

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said, feeling a tad overwhelmed. He heard Remus and Sirius chuckle behind him. 

"Please, Harry Potter, sir, if there is anything else you'll be needing, the house-elves of Hogwarts will be happy to give it to you."

"Thanks," Harry said again, looking over his shoulder at Sirius and Remus for help, but they both shrugged and pretended not to see the embarrassed flush staining Harry's cheeks. 

"Dobby will leave you to yourselves now. We will see you soon at Hogwarts, Harry Potter, sir!" And with a flick of his fingers, Dobby disappeared. 

"Right," Harry said, unsure what had just happened. Sirius patted him on the shoulder, and then grabbed a plate from the counter.

"Don't mind me while I try a few of these things," Sirius said, loading his plate full with all sorts of food. "I haven't had a decent meal in days."

"Be my guest," Harry said. The food did look very good, and Harry regretted he didn't have much of an appetite the day after the full moon. He settled for a fresh croissant and a cup of chocolate milk topped with whipped cream. Remus helped himself to a bowl of soup and a few slices of toast, and just when they all sat down, the door opened and Ivan and Patrick walked in. 

"I see you've been busy, dogboy," Ivan said, eying the food with an appreciative curve of his eyebrow.

"Wasn't me," Sirius said around a mouthful of roasted pork. 

"Harry has a few enthusiastic friends among the Hogwarts house-elves," Remus said. "Help yourselves."

"Do I even want to know what a house-elf is?" Ivan whispered to Patrick, who snickered in response. 

"You probably don't. But I can guarantee you this food is safe for consumption." Patrick poured himself a cup of coffee, and filled a plate with a few scones. Ivan sniffed the food carefully, and then seemed to conclude it was all right. He scooped a generous serving of bacon and eggs on his plate before sitting down at the head of the table. 

"I learned a very important lesson last night," Ivan said, looking solemn. Harry expected him to say something about his wife and child. 

"Let's hear it," Sirius said, waving his hand to hurry Ivan's statement along. 

"A condom does not fit over a werewolf's cock." Ivan sounded as though he'd just announced the end of the world. 

Sirius choked on his mouthful of bread, Remus' cheeks flushed crimson, Harry snorted with laughter, and Patrick dropped his head to the table. 

"It was, all in all, a very messy and traumatic experience," Ivan continued. "And only because my darling lover refused to fuck me without a silly piece of rubber."

"Ivan," Patrick groaned as he lifted his head up. "Does the concept of too much information mean anything to you?"

Ivan seemed to consider that. "No, I don't think it does," he said with a careless shrug. "Besides, the puppy was allowed to have his wolf fuck him without protection."

"We've been over this before, love, many, many times. We don't know what an infection will do to you. It could kill you. I'm not going to risk it."

Remus, who'd seemed rather embarrassed about the whole conversation, tilted his head. "That's an interesting question. A vampire infecting a werewolf results in the werewolf's joined souls splitting apart and thus killing him." Remus frowned. "If a werewolf infects a vampire, a parasite soul would grow inside him. I wonder if that would transform his half-soul into a complete one."

Patrick stared at Remus with wide eyes. 

"No thanks, darling. I think you've just convinced me to have safe sex for the rest of my undead life." Ivan shuddered. "Parasite souls. Disgusting."

"Actually, it makes a lot of sense," Patrick said, as Remus nodded his agreement. 

"Research?" Remus offered. 

"Aye, I'd say that deserves some research."

"Moony!" Sirius said, making it sound like an accusation.

"Not right away," Remus replied quickly, but his lips quirked up in the way Harry knew he was thinking about spending a lot of time with his books.

Harry shared a glance with Sirius, and shrugged. He didn't mind Remus wanting to research things. As long as he wasn't expected to join in. Harry thought he'd done enough research over the past few weeks to last him a lifetime. 

The door opened, and Duncan and the twins walked in. Duncan strolled over to the table, but the twins hovered near the doorway.

"This is where we say goodbye," Fred said with a little bow. 

"Thank you for your hospitality," George added, also giving a bow. 

"But we must be off -- "

"We have plans to make -- "

"Our shop to rebuild -- "

"And new merchandise to invent."

Sirius gave them a nod, and Remus turned in his seat to look at the twins. 

"Did you destroy your batch of hex-grenades?" Remus asked, narrowing his eyes.

"We did," Fred said, while George nodded solemnly. 

"Duncan?" Patrick asked. 

"Dude, yeah, they did," Duncan said, examining the food on the table. 

At Harry's confused look, Ivan said, "Duncan can't lie to save his hide." 

"We'll see you all later," George said. Fred waved, and then they both left the kitchen, the door falling shut behind them with a quiet click. 

And Harry was left wondering why the twins had just taken off like that, leaving Duncan behind. He thought there had been something between those three, but apparently he'd been wrong. And by the look of things, Duncan wasn't bothered with the situation at all. 

"Dude, pizza!" Duncan held a slice up to his nose. "And no garlic!" With a bright smile, Duncan filled a plate with slices of pizza, and sat down beside Ivan. 

"I'll be outside for a quick fag," Patrick said. He got up, moving with the obvious pain that came with a recent transformation. He closed the back door, but a second later, it opened again, and Patrick fell back inside the kitchen. 

"Owls!" Patrick said, looking concerned. 

"Owls?" Ivan echoed. 

"Let them in." Sirius waved his hand in an impatient gesture. 

"If you insist." Patrick pulled the back door open, and at least a hundred owls all tried to fly inside the kitchen at once. Ivan and Duncan ducked, arms curled over their heads. Harry stared at the birds. They dropped letters and cards and parcels around the kitchen, burying the floor and the table under a mountain of parchment. And every last one of the deliveries was addressed to Harry Potter. 

"I think it's for you, puppy," Ivan said, reaching for a card which had fallen on top of his breakfast. 

Sirius laughed, and Remus grinned, and Harry had no idea what all the post was about. 

" _Dear Harry_ ," Ivan said, staring at the brightly colored card in his hand. " _Thank you for killing You Know Who. I think you're very brave. Do you have a girlfriend? If not, I'll be your girlfriend. Love, Tricia Meadows, age twelve._ "

Groaning, Harry buried his face in his hands. This could not be happening. 

"Looks like you've got fanmail, puppy," Ivan said with a sweet smile. "Tricia here seems like a nice little girl. Do you want to take her up on her offer?"

Sirius was still laughing, and wiped at his eyes.

"But how do all these people know what happened?" Harry asked, and he hated how desperate he sounded. 

Remus fished the _Daily Prophet_ out of the spaghetti and spelled it clean with a flick of his wand. He unrolled it, and raised his eyebrow. "This would be how they know," he said, holding the front page up for everyone to see. 

'HARRY POTTER DEFEATS YOU KNOW WHO IN FINAL BATTLE'

Harry released a strangled sound of despair, and Remus slid on his reading glasses and skimmed the first page. 

"It's a special edition," Remus said, tracing his finger down the parchment. "We're all mentioned. It's the story Dumbledore told Fudge last night." Remus turned a page, and curved an eyebrow. "And there is lots more," he said, holding the paper up again. 

'THE TRAGEDY OF SIRIUS BLACK: INNOCENT IN AZKABAN' and on the opposite page, 'THE DOUBLE-LIFE OF SEVERUS SNAPE: DEATH EATER TURNED SPY'

Harry's jaw sank open, and Remus turned another page. 

'PATRICK MCKINLEY: WEREWOLF LEADER FIGHTS FOR WHAT IS RIGHT', followed by, 'VAMPIRES CRUCIAL IN DEFEAT YOU KNOW WHO: IVAN STORKAVIC LEADS CLAN TO VICTORY'. 

"Dumbledore's behind this," Sirius said, shaking his head. Remus nodded, and turned yet another page. There were more headlines, involving Remus, Bill, the Weasleys, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville, and the rest of the Order.

Ivan seemed unaffected by the sudden public attention. "Well, it's not as if they're lying," he said, smirking.

"I suppose," Harry said, slumping his shoulders. "Though a little less publicity would have been nice."

"This is odd," Remus said, studying the last page. "A personnel advertisement. Hogwarts is in need of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and a Potions master for the next school year."

"Moony," Sirius sighed. "The whole bloody paper is about us, and you're going through the personnel ads?"

"Force of habit," Remus mumbled, cheeks flushing. 

The flames in the fireplace roared, coloring green, and a moment later Dumbledore stepped out of the hearth, followed by Bill and Snape. 

"Ah, I see you've received the _Prophet_ ," Dumbledore said, sounding pleased with himself. He glanced around the kitchen, and flicked his wand. All the letters and cards and parcels scattered everywhere flew to one corner, forming neat stacks. Bill snickered, and Snape scowled, sending a nasty glare in Harry's direction. 

"Yes," Remus said, folding the newspaper. "It makes for quite an interesting read."

"Indeed, indeed," Dumbledore said, nodding. "I do believe it was time the truth was finally revealed to the public at large."

Sirius cleared his throat. "What's happened with Wormtail?"

"Kingsley and Alastor have interrogated him this morning. Mr Pettigrew has come clean. I think Fudge sent you a letter today, clearing you of all previous convictions."

"Accio Ministry letter to Sirius Black," Remus said, aiming his wand at the stack of post. A roll of parchment flew into his hand, and he leaned over the table to give it to Sirius. 

Harry bit his lip while Sirius unrolled the letter, staring at its contents with a slack expression. Then he lowered it, and nodded once, gaze fixed on his empty plate. Harry didn't know what to say; the joy and relief he felt cut off his breath. Remus kept quiet as well and just smiled. 

"And in light of that news, I have an offer for you two," Dumbledore said, nodding at Sirius and Remus. "I'm looking for two new teachers for next year. I do believe you would both be a welcome addition to my staff."

"Huh?" Harry said, confusion overruling the joy he'd felt. 

"Remus has proved to be quite the talented Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said. "And Sirius was a more than average Potions student. I don't think he'd have any problems following in Severus' footsteps."

"Headmaster!" Snape snarled, looking like he'd done the previous evening just before he'd cut off Voldemort's head. "I did not resign to have you hire Black to ruin everything I've built over the last sixteen years!"

"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore said mildly. Sirius seemed too dumbstruck to say anything, and he gaped at the Headmaster. 

"That's a very kind offer, Albus," Remus said, and Harry could tell he was tempted to accept it. "But I'm afraid we've made other plans already for next year." Remus glanced between Harry and Bill. 

"Yeah," Bill said, grinning at Harry. "My offer still stands, Harry, if you want to come with me to Egypt."

"Yes!" Harry said. He'd never considered not moving to Egypt. "I want to become a curse-breaker. We're still going, aren't we?" he asked, looking at Remus and Sirius. 

"Of course we are," Sirius said, and glared at Snape. "As if I'd want to try to fix the mess you've made in that dungeon."

Snape sneered, but Dumbledore started talking before Snape could reply. 

"The Minister also informed me today that you'll all be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. There will be a small ceremony at Hogwarts next Monday evening, which you're all expected to attend."

Sirius snorted. "From criminal to war hero in one day. I do hope Fudge won't mind me cramming that medallion up his arse when he hands it to me."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Patrick said, leaning back in his chair. "Fudge banned me from the Ministry and threatened to throw me into Azkaban, and now he wants to give me an award?"

"Gentlemen, the first step to a better world is making concessions. Let Fudge have his convenient moment in the public eye. After that, you can all decide how you want to use your new positions to better your lives." Dumbledore smiled a peculiar smile, and then turned towards Harry. 

"We've canceled classes this week, Harry, to give our students the chance to celebrate. We don't expect you back at school until Monday morning."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, though he'd hardly heard what Dumbledore had just told him. He was still busy pondering Dumbledore's previous statement. 

"Well, I must be off. Hogwarts is having a banquet tonight to celebrate."

"Sir?" Harry pushed himself up from his seat. "Could I have a word with you?"

"Of course," Dumbledore said with an indulgent nod. "Let's step into the hallway, shall we?"

Harry followed Dumbledore, and once they were in the hallway, he looked at the Headmaster. "You knew, didn't you? You knew all along."

"Knew what, Harry?"

Harry sighed. "The whole soul thing. Defeating Voldemort inside death. You gave Hermione that book on necromancy. You knew she'd tell me. And last summer, you said something about Voldemort not knowing what hit him when something as strong as a werewolf invaded his mind. You knew all along, and you didn't tell me a thing."

"Yes, I did know," Dumbledore said, stroking a hand over his beard. "But Harry, if I'd told you all of this earlier, would you have understood it?"

"Er..."

"If I'd tried to explain it to you before you were ready to understand it, I'd only have confused you. It was something you had to discover on your own."

"All right," Harry said. He had to admit Dumbledore had a point. "Is there anything in today's _Prophet_ about my condition?"

"No. That is not my secret to share."

"I'll be back at school this Monday," Harry said, locking his eyes with Dumbledore's. "I'll take my N.E.W.T.s and finish school. But after that, we're leaving. As of right now, my life is my own."

Dumbledore placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's always been your own, my boy. I hope you find what you're looking for in your future."

Harry glanced at the kitchen door. "I've already found it."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'll see you on Monday." Dumbledore smiled, and then disappeared out the front door. Harry returned to the kitchen, and shrugged when Remus gave him a questioning look. 

"Why are you still here?" Sirius asked, glaring up at Snape. "This is a private party."

"I assure you, I'm not here for any festivities," Snape said, lips thinning. 

"Funny how you keep saying that while you still turn up to ruin our fun." Sirius crossed his arms. 

Snape ignored him, though it seemed to cost him a great deal of trouble. "Mr Storkavic. I have a business proposition for you."

Ivan perked up. "Do you now, darling?"

"Yes, I believe I can be of service to you. You know my area of expertise." A sly smile crept around Snape's lips. "As I understand it, you have the financial means to employ someone of my status. There still is the matter of the potion I'm supposed to develop for your kind. If you are agreeable to my proposal, I'll gladly continue my research."

"Now wait a minute, batboy," Ivan said, rising to his feet. "That potion was part of the deal we made with your kind. You'd better deliver it without expecting any further compensation. As for offering me your services," Ivan leaned closer, sniffing the air around Snape's throat, "would those be the same services you offered Billy last night?"

Bill's ears turned pink, and Snape narrowed his eyes, inhaling a sharp breath.

"I'll hire you," Harry said, breaking the shocked silence around him. 

"Harry!" Sirius, who'd been leaning his chair back to better glare at Snape, almost tipped over. 

"Seriously," Harry said, glancing at Remus. "I want the Wolfsbane Potion every month." Remus nodded his quiet agreement. 

"Dude, and I'll hire you," Duncan said. When everyone looked at him, he shrank back in his chair. "For a sunscreen. I really, like, want to surf during the day. Surfing at night sucks. Sharks hunt at night."

Snape seemed at a complete loss as to what Duncan had just said. Ivan, however, smiled. 

"Now there's an idea. Do you think you can develop something that will allow us to be outside during the day?"

Snape frowned. "I should expect so. It will take some research and some time."

"We have plenty of time, darling." Ivan offered Snape his hand. "You're hired. You'll make those wolves their potion each month, and the rest of the time, you'll be working for me."

"I accept." Snape shook Ivan's hand with a curt nod of his head. 

"You may as well all sit down," Remus said, waving at the empty chairs. Snape and Bill took a seat beside each other. Snape turned to Bill, and looked as though he wasn't sure what to say. 

"I'll accept your offer to join you in Egypt," he said, sounding unusually quiet. "Lupin and Potter will be there. I can brew them their potion each month."

Sirius looked as though he'd just landed himself in his worst nightmare. He pushed his chair back and got up. 

"Padfoot, where are you going?" Remus asked. 

"I'm going to fire-call Dumbledore and let him know I'll accept that position at Hogwarts." When Snape sputtered, Sirius glared at him and added, "Yes, just to spite you, you miserable bastard."

"Sirius, _sit down_."

Sirius glared at Remus, but shuffled back to his seat. Harry wasn't sure what had just happened, and he looked between Sirius and Remus. 

"Don't worry, he'll come around," Remus whispered, and patted Harry on his thigh. 

"Will you three be joining us in Egypt as well?" Bill asked, giving Ivan a curious look. 

"Egypt is cool," Duncan said, beaming. 

"Don't be ridiculous." Snape gave Duncan his best classroom glare. "Egypt is mostly a desert region. Temperatures there are quite high."

"Dude, I know that. Ivan and me lived there for a couple of years. It's still a really cool place."

Harry snorted with laughter, as Bill leaned over to whisper something in Snape's ear. Snape frowned, and then glared at Duncan again. 

"What do you say, love?" Ivan asked, sliding his arm around Patrick's shoulders. "We're homeless here in the UK. I do have that lovely villa in Cairo."

"We might as well," Patrick said, pressing a kiss to Ivan's lips. 

"But will it be safe for you to return to Egypt?" Harry asked, remembering the things Ivan had told them during Bill's class on vampires. 

"What do you mean, puppy?"

"You told us about that girl whose blood you wanted, and her family finding out, and then there was an angry mob that chased you through the desert, and then you found Bill in that tomb."

"I did, didn't I?" Ivan said, one corner of his mouth tugging up. 

Duncan frowned. "Dude, that's so not what happened."

"Duncan, be quiet."

"No, seriously," Duncan continued, hopping his chair to the side so Ivan couldn't hit him over the head. "There wasn't any girl or an angry mob. Ivan and me and some friends got drunk one night in Egypt. And then someone dared Ivan to ride a camel. But he was drunk out of his skull, so he fell off the camel somewhere in the middle of the desert and that stupid camel took off without him. And that's when he met Bill, 'cause he needed a place to stay for the day."

"Duncan!" Ivan narrowed his eyes, looking as though he wanted to strangle Duncan. 

"It's not nice to lie to people like that," Duncan said, shrugging at Ivan. 

"I never lied," Ivan said with a huff. "I was merely making the truth more interesting."

Harry was laughing so hard, he had to take his glasses off to wipe a few tears from his eyes. He glanced around the table, and saw Remus, Bill and Patrick laughing as well. Even Snape seemed close to smiling. 

But Sirius looked as though someone had died. Harry closed his mouth, and frowned at Sirius. 

"I want a word with you two," Sirius said, pointing at Remus and Harry. "The drawing room. Now."

They made their way to the drawing room quietly, and the moment Remus closed the door behind them, Sirius turned on his heel and glared at them both. 

"That," Sirius waved a hand in the general direction of the kitchen, "is not what I had in mind when I agreed to move to Egypt."

"Padfoot, what is your problem?" Remus asked. He lowered himself to the couch, and Harry did the same. His body was still too sore to endure Sirius' tirade on his feet. 

"My problem is that I agreed to move to Egypt with you two. Not with half the wizarding world following us!"

Remus sighed, and patted the space between Harry and him on the couch. "Sirius, come sit down with us, please."

Sirius snorted, but he still sank down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"What do you want?" Remus asked, his voice as patient as ever. 

"Just to be with both of you."

"But you will be with us," Harry said. Sirius' eyes looked pained, and that worried Harry to no end. 

"Does this have to do with the reason you ran away, throwing yourself into a battle that wasn't yours to fight alone in the first place?" Remus asked. 

"Yes. No. I don't know." Sirius leaned the back of his head on the couch, releasing a deep breath. "This just isn't what I had in mind when I imagined our future together."

"Padfoot, you haven't had any chance of a future for sixteen years. It's quite all right to be afraid of it."

"I'm not afraid of anything, Moony!"

"Then why are you so afraid of those people?" Remus' voice was still calm, but Harry could tell he had trouble not to raise it. 

"I'm not afraid," Sirius said, and pursed his lips. 

"Those people are our friends," Remus said, and then frowned. "Well, perhaps not Snape. But you can't expect those people not to be our friends. We'll continue to have contact with them, whether they live here or in Egypt. But I can assure you they won't be going to bed with us at night."

"It's not that," Sirius said through clenched teeth. "It's just...everything's moving a bit fast."

Remus stayed quiet for a moment, regarding Sirius with a calm gaze. "You hadn't expected to make it out alive. You had expected to die last night, am I right?"

"Yeah." Sirius closed his eyes. "You're right, Moony, as usual."

Harry gasped, giving Remus a helpless look. Sirius had gone on a suicide mission?

"What did you expect me to do, Harry?" Sirius asked, jumping up from the couch. "What do you expect me to do? I'm a bloody criminal one day, and now that bastard Fudge wants to give me a medal. For what? For getting my friends killed? For fucking my own bloody godson? For not realizing Moony was infecting you? For spending half of my life behind bars or on the run?"

"Padfoot, enough!"

Sirius threw his hands up in the air, and then hung his head, shaking it, his long hair obscuring his face.

For a few moments, Harry was at a loss of what to say. Remus had already told him those things about Sirius, but hearing them from Sirius' mouth sent a nasty, cold shiver through Harry's body. And then he remembered something. 

"I want to show you what happened last night," Harry said. He moved towards the desk, and unlocked the drawer with a flick of his wand. Then he carefully lifted the pensieve out. "Both of you. And you have to promise me to watch it all the way through."

Harry placed the tip of his wand against his temple, and focused on the memory of his time spent in the underworld and the twilight. He made sure his encounter with his parents was there, but he broke it off before Ivan met his wife and child. He didn't think it was up to him to show that to Remus and Sirius. He plopped the silvery string into the pensieve, and stepped back. 

"I'll let you watch it together. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." Harry moved past Sirius, briefly touching Sirius' hand with his own. Then he nodded at Remus, and left the drawing room. 

Inside the hallway, Harry leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and inhaling a deep breath. He hoped seeing his memory, his parents, would help Sirius. Because he had no idea what else to do. And seeing Sirius hurt, trapped by guilt, tore at Harry's heart. 

Things were supposed to be all right now. Voldemort was dead. Sirius was free. No more running or keeping secrets or --

Harry frowned. There would still be secrets. Unless...

Inwardly shaking himself, Harry went back to the kitchen. Snape and Bill had left, he noticed as he sat down at the table. 

"Everything all right, puppy?" Ivan asked with a curious tilt of his head.

Harry shrugged, and stared into Ivan's eyes. "I put my memory in the pensieve, so Sirius could see it. You know, that thing that happened after Voldemort died."

Ivan nodded and gave Harry a knowing smile. "That should do the trick. If not, I have tons of memories to show dogboy. To force some sense into him."

"We'll see," Harry said, and stared at his half-eaten croissant. His appetite was completely gone now, so he shoved the plate to the side and picked up the _Daily Prophet._ He read through the articles, while Ivan and Duncan bickered about what exactly a lie was, and Patrick briefly went outside for a cigarette. 

People were making him out to be a hero, Harry realized. Problem was, he didn't feel like a hero, nor did he want to be one. He hadn't killed Voldemort for the good of mankind. He'd killed him because otherwise Voldemort would have killed Sirius. Harry could see little heroism in that. More like desperation. 

After half an hour, the kitchen door opened, and Sirius and Remus walked inside. Before Harry could ask how things had gone, Sirius grabbed him a hug from behind, wrapping both his arms around Harry and pressing his lips to Harry's cheeks. 

"Thanks," he whispered. "For letting me see that." Sirius pulled back roughly, and Harry glanced up at Remus. 

"Everything's fine," Remus said, and stroked his fingers across the back of Harry's neck. "We're going to Egypt."

Harry smiled, and looked at Sirius again. Sirius stood behind Ivan, who sat still in his chair, and then Sirius leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Ivan's head. 

"Thanks for pulling him out," Sirius said, and quickly drew back. "You're still a stiff, but I suppose you did save my godson's life."

"Dogboy! You do care!" Ivan spread his arms in a grand gesture, and laughed when Sirius gave him a two-finger salute. And Harry felt as if a great weight slipped off his heart. It seemed that things would be all right after all. 

"What are you planning to do the next few months?" Remus asked, glancing at Patrick. 

"Not sure. If we're moving to Egypt this summer, there's little use in rebuilding my shop." Patrick leaned back in his chair, casting a quick glance at Ivan. "I suppose we could go back to the Hog's Head."

"Why on earth would you go back there?" Remus asked. "There are no longer Death Eaters after you."

Patrick grimaced. "The Ministry's ban and their attempts to throw me into Azkaban. As long as that's not lifted, I have no choice but to stay in a wizarding area or keep myself locked up somewhere."

Harry stared at Patrick with wide eyes. "Actually," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "There's something I want to do. Need to do. But I'll need your help with it. From all of you."

*~*~*~*~*

The moment the sun set the next evening, they apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Such a quaint, little place, isn't it?" Ivan said, releasing Patrick's shoulders. Duncan had hitched a ride with Sirius, who patted him on the head before shoving him towards the back door. 

"Come on. We haven't much time before the Ministry closes." Remus led the way, tapping the stone wall behind the pub with his wand. The wall shifted, stones sliding to the side, and Diagon Alley came into view. 

"I'll admit it. I'm impressed," Ivan said, hooking his arm with Patrick's as they strolled forward. "Normally there's nothing but empty bottles and used condoms behind a pub. This is definitely an improvement."

Duncan looked much like Harry had done the first time he'd set foot in Diagon Alley. Harry smiled at him, and then stepped into pace with Sirius. 

"I'm expecting people to start screaming any minute now," Sirius said. He looked amused, but his voice carried a nervous edge. 

"For now they're merely staring," Remus said. "People do read the _Prophet_."

"So it seems." Sirius stopped in front of Ollivander's. "Let's do this."

"Sirius Black," Ollivander said the moment Sirius walked inside the shop. "I was wondering when I'd see you again."

Sirius nodded a polite greeting. "I need a wand."

"Yes, yes, so I've heard." Ollivander circled Sirius once, looking him up and down. "And I do believe I have the perfect wand for you – _don't touch that!_ " 

Ivan dropped the metal box he'd picked up from the counter. "Ever so sorry, darling."

"Hmm." Ollivander looked at Ivan with narrowed eyes, and then swept to the back of his store. He returned a moment later, carrying a slim, brown box. "Try this one, Mr Black. Mahogany, twelve inches, dragon heartstring."

"Twelve inches," Sirius said happily as he accepted the wand from Ollivander. "That's bigger than yours, Moony."

"By half an inch," Remus muttered, while Harry stifled a laugh. "Try it already."

Sirius raised the wand, and swished it down. Red and gold sparks shot from the tip, illuminating the dark shop. 

"Perfect, perfect," Ollivander said, eyes crinkling. "That will be seven Galleons."

Staring down at the wand in his hand as if he couldn't quite believe he was holding it, Sirius didn't move. So Harry offered Ollivander a smile, and handed him seven golden coins. 

"Mr Potter. Is your wand still serving you well?"

"Yeah, thanks," Harry said. "Very well."

Ollivander glanced at Duncan, who was smiling brightly, and narrowed his pale gaze. 

"We'd love to stay and chat, Mr Ollivander, but I'm afraid we're in a bit of a rush," Remus said, placing his hand on Sirius' arm. "Have a lovely evening." Remus steered Sirius towards the door. Harry trailed close behind. 

Outside, Duncan shuddered. "Dude, I didn't like how that guy looked at me."

"Probably because in the old days they used crushed vampire fangs for wand cores. Quite potent," Patrick said. Ivan growled, and wanted to stalk back inside the shop, but Patrick grabbed his shoulder. "I said, in the old days. It was far too unpredictable for every day wand use. I think Ollivander was just reminiscing."

"Yes, well, let's just disapparate." Remus placed his arm around Duncan's shoulder. "I'll take you this round."

Sirius still stared at his wand, and Harry gently touched his shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah." Sirius slipped the wand into his cloak. "It's just good to have a wand of my own again." He stared down at Harry, and Harry felt the overwhelming urge to kiss Sirius, and he didn't realize they were standing in the middle of Diagon Alley until after his lips met Sirius'. 

Harry drew back, feeling his cheeks flush. He heard people whispering around them, and he fixed his eyes on the stones beneath his feet. 

"This was supposed to be a coming out event, wasn't it?" Sirius said, and Harry could hear the grin in his voice. "Might as well come out with everything."

"I suppose," Harry said, as Sirius tipped his chin up. "There's nothing anyone can do about, is there?"

"Nope." Sirius crushed his lips to Harry's, and closed Harry into his arms. Harry sagged against Sirius, and felt the world dissolve around them. And Sirius was still kissing him as they apparated straight into the Ministry's atrium. 

"Now that's what I call an entrance," Ivan said. Harry released Sirius and stepped back, and even though he knew no one could do anything to him, to them, he still hoped not a lot of people had seen that. 

"This way," Patrick said. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and as Harry walked towards the security desk, his friends following him, he saw Richard and Maggie waiting on the other side of the hall. Harry waved at them. 

"Hello, Harry," Maggie called, waving back. "We've already checked in." Richard had his back turned to them, and seemed to be studying one of the paintings on the wall. 

"State your name and business," the security wizard said without looking up from the _Daily Prophet_.

"Harry Potter. I'm here to register myself as a werewolf."

Harry might as well have said he was Voldemort. The wizard jumped up, newspaper scattering to the floor. Harry gave him a sweet smile, as the wizard's mouth sank open. 

"W-wand please, Mr Potter."

"Of course." Harry placed his wand on the strange-looking scale, and waited as a narrow strip of parchment appeared from the side. 

"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use for six years," the wizard said in a small voice. 

"Yep." Harry spread his arms so the wizard could pass a golden rod up and down his back and front. 

"You're all clear," the wizard said. He couldn't stop staring at Harry's forehead. "Next."

"Sirius Black." Sirius dropped his wand on the scale. "I'm here to accompany my godson, Harry Potter."

The security wizard's cheeks, which had been flushed, paled. He fumbled with his own wand, but by the time he got it dislodged from his blue robes, a strip of parchment had already appeared. Sirius rolled his eyes and tapped his fingers on the counter. 

The wizard picked up the slip of parchment with trembling fingers. "Twelve inches, dragon's heartstring core, been in use for...ten minutes?" 

"Yeah," Sirius said, leaning over the counter. "Because you bastards snapped my wand sixteen years ago when you threw me into Azkaban for a crime I didn't commit!"

"Er..." The wizard seemed on the verge of fainting. "You're clear. Next?"

"Patrick McKinley. I'm here to make a few amendments to my werewolf registration."

Gasping, the security wizard reached for a stack of parchment on his desk, and paged through it as though his life was on the line. "McKinley, Patrick," he said, looking up with fearful eyes. "You're banned from the Ministry."

"Really?" Patrick said, looking as though he had no idea what the wizard was talking about. 

"He's with me," Harry said, leaning his arms on the counter, tapping his wand against the hard surface. "And I don't care if he's banned. What do you suggest we do about this?"

"Mr P-potter, sir, I can't allow -- "

"Yes, you can," Harry said with all the patience in the world. "You can let us right through, so we can go about our business with the Werewolf Registry. Or you can call Minister Fudge down here, if you think you aren't competent enough to handle this on your own."

"This will be on your head, Mr Potter."

"Everything's always been on my head," Harry snarled. "Do you really think I care?"

"Fine. Next. Wand?" 

"And which wand would that be, darling?" Ivan made to reach for the fastenings of his leather trousers. "This is the only one I've got."

Harry hadn't thought the wizard could possibly look more shocked, but Ivan's display proved him wrong. Ivan gave the wizard a lewd smile, flashing his fangs. 

"Name?" the wizard squeaked. 

"Ivan Storkavic."

"Business?"

"That's a good question." Ivan glanced at Patrick. "Why am I here?"

"To register yourself as a Dark Creature, love," Patrick supplied with a smile. 

"Right." Ivan leaned over the counter, and stroked a finger down the buttons on the wizard's robes. "I'm a vampire. And I'm here to register myself. Aren't I a good little boy, darling?"

The wizard took a quick step back, as though Ivan had burned him, and almost fell over his chair. "Clear! You're clear! You're all clear!"

"Thanks ever so much." Ivan winked at the wizard, and then slid his arm around Duncan's shoulder. "Come, Duncan, let's be good citizens and do our duty."

As they walked through the gates, Richard and Maggie caught up with them. "Nice show," Richard said, grinning. 

"Yes, wasn't it?" Ivan agreed. "If I'd know this Ministry was this much fun, I'd have come with you a long time ago, love."

Patrick snorted, and pressed the button to call the lift. Harry looked at Sirius, and they both had trouble not to burst out in laughter. 

"Honestly," Remus said, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder, but he too seemed quite amused. 

They filed into the lift the moment it arrived, and Patrick pressed the button to the fourth level. Harry stood between Sirius and Remus, and inhaled a deep breath to calm himself. He knew this was the only way to force the Ministry to change the laws concerning Dark Creatures. They weren't going to change it without some pressure. But the idea of registering himself as a werewolf still tied Harry's stomach up into a messy knot. 

Sirius glanced at Richard, eyes narrowing. "Do I know you?"

"No, you don't," Richard said, keeping his gaze fixed on the golden grille in front of them. 

"Really? You look familiar."

The lift screeched to a halt as the grille slid open, and Richard walked into the corridor without replying. Sirius shrugged, and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders. 

"All right, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said. Remus gave his hand a brief squeeze, and they all followed Patrick to a small office near the back of the corridor. A lopsided sign beside the door read 'Werewolf Registry'. 

"Do you want to do the honors, Harry?" Patrick asked, gesturing at the door to the office. 

"I'm oldest," Ivan said, shoving Harry to the side. "I'll go first. Come, Duncan."

"You couldn't tell he was oldest by his behavior," Remus said, his voice soft. 

"I heard that!" Ivan pushed the door open, tugging Duncan along, and they all fit themselves inside the small office. Ivan leaned an elbow on the counter, and gave the young witch behind it a charming smile. 

"Hello, darling. What's your name?"

"Edith," the young witch said, looking as though she'd never seen so many people in her office before. 

"Well, Edith, my name is Ivan, and this is Duncan, and we're here to register ourselves as vampires." Ivan emphasized his point by baring his fangs. 

"Er...this is the Werewolf Registry," Edith said, glancing around the others. "Vampires fall under the Pest Advisory Board. We don't usually register them unless someone makes a complaint."

"I am a real pest, sweetheart, trust me. And these friends of mine are werewolves here to do business with you, so why don't we just make things easier for all of us, and you hand us the right forms so Duncan and I can be responsible citizens of your world."

"I suppose I could give you those forms, though it's not customary for vampires to fill them out themselves." Edith pushed her chair back, and reached for a cabinet on her right. 

"I'm sure we'll manage, darling." 

Edith handed both Ivan and Duncan a stack of parchment and a couple of quills. 

"Let's see," Ivan said, paging through the parchment. "Name, date of birth, place of residence, boring, boring, boring, ah! Victims. Let's start with that, shall we, Duncan?"

"Sure, dude." Duncan carefully dipped his quill into the ink pot on the counter. 

"Date, and name of victim." Ivan tilted his head and started writing. "January thirteenth, 1497. Anna and Nicholai Storkavic. Should I mention they were my wife and son, dearest Edith?"

"Er...that's n-not necessary," Edith said, shrinking in her chair. Harry glanced at Patrick, surprised by Ivan's rather public statement. Patrick gave him a warm smile. Harry looked up at Sirius, and saw that Sirius' face had drained of blood. Harry reached for his hand and weaved their fingers together. 

"August fifth, 1831. Old Man Miller," Duncan said, and then looked up with a frown. "I don't remember his first name. You think that's a problem, dude?"

"Nah. They can't possibly expect us to remember all our victims' names." Ivan scribbled on. "January fourteenth, 1497. A farmer called Milos something. January sixteenth, 1497. Another farmer. January eighteenth, 1497. Yet another farmer."

"August sixth, 1831. A blacksmith, but I don't remember his name."

Ivan snapped his gaze towards Duncan. "You ate a blacksmith? I was a blacksmith."

"Dude, I was a farmer," Duncan said, waving his quill at Ivan's parchment. "Look at all the farmers you ate."

"Point." Ivan focused on the form again. "January twentieth, 1497. A priest. Something Kivilo."

"Dude, you ate a priest?"

"Yes," Ivan said proudly. "You've never had one?"

"Nah. I ate a choir boy in 1834, though."

"Well, you've got to start somewhere, isn't that right, Edith darling?"

Edith looked as though she was about to burst into tears, and Harry decided to take pity on her. He stepped around Remus, and joined Ivan at the counter. 

"Hi. I'm Harry Potter. I'm here to register myself as a werewolf."

On second thought, Harry realized that may not have been the best of distraction tactics. Edith jumped up from her seat, clasping both hands over her mouth. 

"Just give him the forms, lassie," Patrick said. "And be a love, and take out registration number 3256. I'd like to add that I've infected Remus Lupin."

"Yes," Remus said, also stepping forward. "My registration number is 3521. I'd like to add that I've infected Harry Potter."

"Mine is 3398," Maggie said, smiling at Edith. "I'd like to add that my husband has infected me."

Edith lowered her trembling hands, and without looking at her desk she reached for parchment and quill. "And his name is?"

Richard stepped forward. "Alphard Black."

Spinning around on his feet, Sirius glared at Richard. "You. Bastard. You died back in 1976."

Chuckling, Richard shook his head. "That's what I wanted people to believe. It was easier that way."

Sirius stood frozen to the ground. "But my mum and dad...they told Reg and me you'd died. They never said anything else, and they seemed quite pleased with the news."

"I should expect so," Richard said. "I was infected in 1966. My brother and sister-in-law were anything but pleased with that. You're too young to remember, but we had some rows in the family. It wasn't until I started pushing for equal rights for werewolves that they blasted my name off that tapestry."

Sirius released a strangled snort of laughter. 

"I moved to the Muggle world, liked it there, and a couple of years later I staged my own death. Nothing to it."

"You left me – you left me a fortune," Sirius whispered. 

"Course I did. You had the balls to stand up to them. When I heard about that, I thought you could use a little something to help make it on your own." Richard's mouth curved up in an amused grin. "Well, don't just stand there, boy."

"You bastard," Sirius muttered, but there was affection behind it. He wrapped his arms around Richard and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Why didn't you come forward years ago?"

"I didn't know you were innocent," Richard said, leaning his forehead against Sirius' shoulder. "It wasn't until Patrick here let it slip a few months ago that I knew what really happened."

"Did you know about this?" Remus asked, glancing at Patrick. 

"No, I'm just as baffled as the rest of you," Patrick said, shaking his head fondly. 

"He's only ever told me," Maggie said. Her eyes had filled with tears, and she wiped them away. "And that wasn't until after he'd already proposed to me."

"Yeah," Richard said, pulling back. He cupped Sirius' face with both hands. "I never had any reason to come back here. But I think that's changed now."

"You bastard," Sirius said again, and snorted with laughter. 

"Out of my way!" called a voice from the corridor. "What is the meaning of this?" The door banged open, and Fudge stormed inside, red-faced. There were three Aurors trailing him. One of them was Kingsley, who gave them all an amused smile. Harry looked past Fudge, and saw a line of people in the corridor. He recognized most of their faces. They were all werewolves who'd helped them in their fight against Voldemort. 

"Harry Potter!" Fudge shrieked. 

"Hi," Harry said. He was still a bit shaken by Richard's revelation – and Harry just couldn't think of him as Alphard, no matter how hard he tried. "I'm here to register myself as a werewolf."

Fudge's mouth sank open, and for a tiny moment, something that seemed an awful lot like malice sparkled in his eyes. 

"Minister," Patrick said, narrowing his eyes. "We're all here to add a few things to our registration."

Closing his mouth, Fudge stared at Patrick, as though he couldn't quite believe Patrick was standing right in front him. Silence filled the room, only interrupted by the scratching of quills. 

"March third, 1497," Ivan said, seemingly oblivious to the happenings behind his back. "A male prostitute. After I shagged him, of course."

"Good evening, Minister," Remus said pleasantly. "It seems you banned Mr McKinley from the Ministry a while ago. I think you'll agree it's a bit odd to ban a war hero, especially one you'll be awarding the Order of Merlin, First Class this Monday."

"Yes, yes," Fudge said, waving his hand in a vague gesture. "That ban is lifted, of course."

"Good," Patrick said. "Was there anything else you wanted, or can we go about our business now?"

"Well, as you know, these laws concerning werewolf registry are quite strict," Fudge said, shaking his head in an apologetic manner. "And we can't just go against our laws. If we make one exception, we won't be able to stop."

"Cornelius!" Richard said, stepping out from behind Sirius. "Wonderful to see you again after all these years."

"Alphard Black?" Fudge looked as though he'd seen a ghost. 

"Cornelius and I went to school together," Richard said, patting Fudge on his shoulder. "Have you met my nephew, Sirius Black?"

Sirius crossed his arms and smirked. 

"I do believe I have," Fudge said. "I assume you got my letter, Mr Black?"

Sirius nodded once. 

"Good, good. Well, I should be on my way." Fudge made to leave the office, but Richard grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside none too gently. 

"There's something I've always wondered, Cornelius. Why don't you have any magical creatures on your staff? This is the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, after all."

"I couldn't say," Fudge mumbled. 

"But you're in luck, my old friend." Richard pulled a scrap of parchment from his pocket. "I read in last week's _Prophet_ you're looking for a new Head of your Beast Division. I'd like to apply for the job."

"But Alphard, you know as well as I do -- "

"Laws can be changed, Cornelius. Werewolves and vampires were crucial in the battle against Voldemort. The public will applaud you if you show enough common sense to finally drop all the restrictions on creatures like us."

"They might," Fudge said, staring at the floor. 

"Why don't I stop by your office tomorrow. Say around noon? We can sign my contract then, and I'll help you form a committee to revise a few laws. How does that sound?"

"Good, Alphard. Tomorrow."

"Good evening, Cornelius." Richard released Fudge's arm, and Fudge fled the office as though being chased by a herd of rabid Hippogriffs. 

"That went well," Sirius said, and burst out in laughter. 

Harry wiped across his forehead. He'd started sweating, but he couldn't recall when. 

"Of course that went well," Richard said, smirking in a way that reminded Harry an awful lot of Snape. "I've got more dirt on him than a broomstick's got twigs. And with the public behind us, he has no choice whatsoever."

"You bastard," Sirius said, clapping Richard on the back. He was still laughing. 

Harry's legs started to hurt, and he leaned his hand on Remus' arm, looking for support. It was only the second day after the full moon, and his body had had quite enough excitement for one evening. 

"Edith, dear, why don't you give us the forms we need," Maggie said, stepping around the counter. "We'll fill them out at home, and owl them back to you tomorrow."

Edith seemed quite happy to comply, and a moment later Maggie handed Harry the registration forms he needed. 

 

"Are you all right, Harry?" Remus asked softly, closing his hand over Harry's. 

"Yeah," Harry said. He folded the parchment and tucked it into his pocket. "Just tired."

"Me too. Why don't we go home and crawl into bed. Call it an early night."

"I'd like that," Harry said, and smiled when Remus pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

"Padfoot? Ready to go."

"Yeah," Sirius said. He smiled at Richard. "Owl me."

Richard snickered. "Better yet, we'll drop by for tea tomorrow, after I've dealt with Fudge."

"Sounds like a plan." Sirius turned to Patrick. "You coming?"

Patrick nodded. "Ivan. Let's go."

"April second, 1497," Ivan said, and looked up. "We're leaving? Already?"

"You can finish that later. We're off, love."

Ivan rolled up the parchment, and sneaked the quill inside his pocket. Edith looked as though she wanted to protest, but thought better of it. "Duncan?" Ivan called, hooking his arm with Patrick's. 

"Right behind you, dude."

"Were you paying any attention?" Patrick asked, as they walked down the corridor. "Fudge lifted my ban."

"You don't say." Ivan slowed his pace. "That means we can check into the Dorchester right now. Better yet, let's go and buy the bloody hotel."

"Ivan," Patrick sighed, pulling him along. "Let's just go home."

"Or that," Ivan said, resigned. 

Harry glanced at Patrick over his shoulder, grinning. 

"Alphard Black," Sirius said with a contented sigh. "Can you believe that bastard?"

"Actually, I can," Remus replied with a teasing smile. "He's related to you, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, sounding happier than Harry'd heard him in a long while. "Yeah, he is."

*~*~*~*~*

Harry sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. The registration form counted twelve pages, and he was only on page six.

Beside him, Remus sat propped up against his pillow, emerged in a book on soul magic, whatever the hell that was. And Sirius sat on Harry's other side, concentrating on the crossword in the _Daily Prophet._

"You should tell your uncle they should make these forms shorter," Harry said, kicking at the sheets in frustration. 

Sirius laughed, and gave Harry a playful nudge with his elbow. "I don't think that will be the only change old Alphard Black will be making."

"I hope so," Harry said, trying not to sound surly. 

Lowering his book, Remus glanced at Harry. "Are you still okay with this? There is no turning back after you send in that form."

"I know," Harry said. He leaned against the headboard and stared at his feet. "But the only way things will ever change is if people stop hiding and demand it."

"Very true," Remus said. He closed his book and placed it on the nightstand. 

"And I honestly don't care what people think of me. Not anymore. I've done my bit. We've all done our bit."

"Yep," Sirius said. He dropped the newspaper to the floor beside the bed, and turned to look at Harry. "We don't owe anyone a bloody thing."

"And it's only a couple more months at school. I'll be busy with my N.E.W.T.s mostly. And after that, it's just us in Egypt."

"Us, and those walking corpses, and Remus' ex-lover, and _Snape_." Sirius sounded as though he was coughing up something that had got stuck in his throat. 

"And none of them will interfere with us if we don't want them to," Remus said.

"Yeah, you're right, Moony." Sirius slid down to the mattress, curling his arm around Harry's waist. "So it's just us?"

"It's always just been us." Remus placed his reading glasses on the nightstand, and lay down beside Harry. 

"You know," Harry said, folding the pieces of parchment. "I'll finish this form tomorrow." He threw them in the general direction of the nightstand. "I think I've got better things to do now."

"And I think you're absolutely right." Sirius crushed his lips to Harry's, and Remus dragged his teeth across Harry's shoulder, and Harry knew with all certainty that things between them were as perfect as they'd ever be. And it was more than enough to make Harry feel like he was right where he belonged; between two men who loved him.


	27. Epilogue

_A year later..._

 

"All clear, Harry? No hieroglyphs of brooms?" Bill asked, crouching on the sand-covered floor of the dark tomb. 

Harry peered at the images on the wall, flicking his wand to wipe dust away. "No brooms. All clear."

"Good. Then the first entrance shouldn't be cursed." Bill aimed his wand at the large headstone sunken into the floor, and moved it with a firm swish. 

A roaring ball of fire shot up from the darkness beneath the headstone. Harry dropped himself to the floor, arms tightened over his head, and Bill fell backwards, releasing a surprised yelp. 

When the fire burned out, Harry waved his wand around to clear the musty tomb air of smoke. He coughed, and he heard Bill do the same. 

"Are you sure there were no brooms, Harry?" Bill asked, wiping soot off his face. 

"Er...think so. Lumos." Harry peered at the wall again, wondering how he could have overlooked a hieroglyph that simple. 

"There it is," Bill said, tapping his finger against a vague image.

"That's not a broom. That's a crane."

Bill chuckled. "No, Harry. That's really a broom."

Harry's shoulders hunched. "Sorry. I could have sworn it was a crane."

"No harm done." Bill patted Harry on his shoulder. "It's getting late. How about we call it a day?"

"How about we call it a weekend?" Harry said, grinning. He loved his job and he loved working with Bill, but he was always very glad when Friday arrived and they had the weekend off. 

"Sounds perfect." Bill made a quick round through the tomb, locking stray things away. "All done," he said, and picked up his Nimbus 1700. Harry got his Firebolt, and together they walked out the ancient tomb, blinding sunlight awaiting them. 

Whenever they worked close to Cairo, they preferred to fly home. Harry had quickly learned there was nothing as refreshing than a fast broom ride through the desert after having spent the whole day in a dusty tomb. 

"Any plans for the weekend?" Bill asked, his long ponytail dancing in the wind. 

"Remus is coming home," Harry said, and felt a little flutter around his heart at hearing his own words. Remus had been in the UK with Patrick for two weeks now. 

Bill snickered. "Then I have a good idea of what you and Sirius will be doing this weekend."

"Yep!" Harry grinned. "Do you and Sna-- Severus have any plans?" It still bothered Harry to call Snape 'Severus', but Bill insisted, saying that since they weren't in school anymore they should behave like civilized adults.

"Not really. I think he was close to finishing his latest potion. He'll probably want to spend lots of time in his laboratory." Bill shrugged. "I'll just have to make sure he takes enough time to relax."

Harry stared at Bill. Even after all those months, he still had a hard time accepting someone as cool as Bill actually wanted to shag someone as nasty as Snape. 

"Harry," Bill said, and there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "Don't start with that again, please."

"I'm not starting anything, promise." Harry put on his best smile, and Bill laughed in response. 

It was one of the main rules in their odd household. With humans, vampires and werewolves living together, they weren't allowed to pass any judgment on each other. Most of them followed that rule, though Sirius and Snape still had a few problems with it from time to time. 

"Is that Sirius?" Bill asked, narrowing his eyes as he stared into the distance. 

Harry stared at the vague figure driving a motorbike through the desert in front of them. Long, dark hair whipped in the wind, a bare chest gleamed with sweat, and the polished chrome of the bike reflected sunlight all around.

"Looks like," Harry said. He knew Sirius loved taking his bike for a spin through the sand. 

But as they flew closer, Harry saw it wasn't Sirius at all. It was Ivan. Harry tugged the handle of his broom up, coming to a quick halt. Ivan whirled the motorbike around, engine roaring, and stopped right in front of Harry, sand whipping up beneath the back wheel.

"Puppy! Billy! Look!" Ivan spread his arms wide, the motorbike humming between his legs. 

"Oh my god," Harry said with a gasp. "You stole Sirius' bike. He's going to kill you for this."

Ivan's bright smile wavered. "I didn't steal – perhaps I took it without asking first, but that's not it." He spread his arms wider. "Look!"

"The Solaris Potion," Bill said, nodding. "I see it finally works."

"Yes!" Ivan raised his arms to the sky, letting his head tip back, long hair spilling over his naked back. "Sun!" For the first time in five hundred years!"

While Harry was still annoyed with Ivan on Sirius' behalf, Ivan's honest enthusiasm was contagious. He smiled, and then glanced at Bill. "Looks like you'll get some after all this weekend."

Bill rolled his eyes, and Ivan snorted with laughter. Then he narrowed his eyes as he looked at Harry. 

"Care to see which one of us is faster, puppy?"

"You want to race home?" Harry asked. Ivan nodded, and Harry felt a smirk tug on his lips. "Sure. Prepare to eat dust."

Harry pushed off, his Firebolt quickly gaining speed. But Ivan jerked at the gas handle, and the motorbike sped up, and soon enough they were side by side, Harry flying close to the ground and Ivan sitting bent over the bike. 

"What was that about dust, puppy?" Ivan yelled over the thundering wind. They reached a sand dune, and Harry made it over first. The moment he was ahead of Ivan, he pushed the back of his Firebolt down, twigs sending a cloud of sand in Ivan's direction. 

"Had enough yet?" he shouted at Ivan, but Ivan was suddenly beside him again, and yanked on the bike, bumping his shoulder against Harry. 

Harry lost his balance, and had to pull hard on his broom not to topple over. "That's cheating!"

Ivan answered him with a cackled burst of laughter. They reached the brick road leading to their villa, and Harry gained on Ivan again, but the motorbike picked up speed on the hard road. They both burst through the opened gates to their villa, and came to a sudden stop in the courtyard. 

Sirius stood there, arms crossed, looking murderous. Beside him stood Snape, who seemed rather pleased. 

"You miserable stiff!" Sirius pointed a finger at Ivan. "There are at least ten bikes in the garage and you just have to snatch mine."

Snape clucked his tongue. "Do control yourself, Black. I told him to go out and test the potion."

"Not on my bike, you didn't." Sirius wiped a strand of long hair out of his face, which was smudged with oil and grease.

"Your precious bike is still in one piece, dogboy," Ivan said, turning the ignition off. "It's not my fault you have such excellent taste in motorcycles."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but then gave Ivan a confused look. Harry chuckled, slipping off his broom. He curled his arm around Sirius' waist and pressed a kiss to Sirius' lips. 

"Let Ivan have his fun. Besides, I won," he whispered, and felt Sirius relax against him. 

"You did not win," Ivan said haughtily. "It was a tie. We'll just have to race each other again to reveal the true winner."

"Over my dead body." Sirius glared at Ivan over Harry's shoulder. 

"You do know you came quite close to that, don't you." Ivan offered Sirius a teasing smile. "It's only thanks to your puppy you didn't end up as my dead body."

Sirius humphed, and looked at Harry again. "I'll just ignore him," Sirius whispered, and kissed Harry, sliding his tongue between Harry's lips. 

"Looks like Billy ended up eating our dust," Ivan said. Harry turned, and saw Bill flying inside the courtyard, face and hair stained with red sand.

"You could have warned me," Bill said. He hopped off his broom beside Snape. "I'm very much in need of a shower right now."

"So I see," Snape said, curving one eyebrow. 

Bill also arched an eyebrow, and then nodded his head in the direction of the house. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Snape placed his hand on Bill's lower back, guiding him to the front door. The moment they disappeared inside the house, Harry felt Sirius shudder against him. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed, as Ivan gave them both a knowing look. It was one of the few things Ivan and Sirius vehemently agreed on: it wasn't natural for anyone to want to shag Snape.

A soft pop resounded through the courtyard, and suddenly Remus and Patrick stood there, holding onto an old zinc bucket. Several suitcases appeared by their side. 

"Remus!" Harry dashed towards him, and Remus gave him a warm smile as he closed his arms around Harry. "God, I've missed you."

"Padfoot been getting on your nerves?" Remus asked, pressing a few kisses to Harry's lips. 

"No, not Sirius," Harry said. He felt Sirius close his arms around them both from behind. "More like Ivan, who was feeling very sorry for himself he had no one to shag."

Patrick burst out in laughter, and Ivan, who had his arms around Patrick, glared at them. "I heard that!"

"Good!" Sirius called back, even though they were standing only a few feet apart. "Because you were impossible. Normal people wank and be done with it."

"You have no sense of romance," Ivan said with a huff. "I was saving myself for the love of my life."

"Have you been drinking, love?" Patrick asked with an amused grin. 

"Probably that potion making him mad. Well, madder than usual," Sirius muttered. Harry leaned his forehead against Remus' chest, snorting with laughter. 

"Potion?" Patrick frowned, and then he seemed to realize what was different. "Love! You're in the sun!"

"Took you long enough," Ivan said, and captured Patrick's lips in a searing kiss. 

"How was London?" Harry asked, gazing up at Remus, feeling satisfied he had both his lovers with him again. 

"Very good. The _Prophet_ called _Our lives As Werewolves_ a compelling read, and the best book on Dark Creatures since _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_. And Flourish and Blotts reported that the sales are going better than they'd expected."

Harry smiled, his heart swelling with pride for Remus and Patrick. They'd decided to write a book together on their experiences, and it seemed the British wizarding world appreciated their effort. 

"That's great, Moony." Sirius leaned over to kiss Remus. "How is Alphard?"

"Also very good. Since Fudge got voted out of office, Alphard has been making a few drastic changes in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It wouldn't surprise me if he becomes the new head of that department within a year. Though I did get the impression Hermione is driving him a bit mad with her crusade for house-elf rights."

Harry snickered, knowing only too well how annoyingly persistent Hermione could be. 

"And we're invited to a wedding this June."

"Who?" Sirius asked. 

"Tonks and Kingsley have invited us." Remus glanced at Patrick and Ivan. "All of us," he added. 

"A wedding?" Ivan seemed pleased. "I adore weddings." He gave Patrick a pointed look. "You know, love --"

"No," Patrick said. "I'll shag you, I'll love you, but I'm not going to marry you."

"Well, of course not." Ivan looked indignant. "I was going to say that the best part of a wedding is the honeymoon. Now that you've finished your book, I was thinking perhaps we could take a little trip soon."

"That we can do." Patrick cupped Ivan's face and devoured his mouth. 

"It's sickening, isn't it?" Sirius said in horrified fascination. Harry chuckled, and grabbed Sirius' chin, forcing him to focus on Remus and him. 

"Since when do we have a camel?" Remus asked, peering over Sirius' shoulder to Buckbeak's paddock, where Buckbeak stood, gently grooming the camel's neck with his sharp beak. 

"Since last week," Sirius replied. "Beaky seems to like her."

"All right," Remus said, unsure. "But how did we get a camel?"

"Old Ali from the bakery a few streets away needed to have his scooter fixed. Carburetor was clogged. Just a tiny thing," Sirius said, at Remus' confused look. "And I told him to keep his money, but he was so grateful, he insisted on giving me that camel."

"Ah." Remus looked at the odd pair in the paddock again, and then shrugged. 

Sirius had opened a small bike repair shop in their garage, and while he mostly dealt with heavy motorbikes, their neighbors had also found their way to him. And Sirius never refused to help them out, fixing their scooters and mopeds free of charge. It had already led to many odd gifts of gratitude, ranging from bags of fresh dates to a beautiful, silver water-pipe. Which Remus refused to let them try, much to Harry's dismay. 

"Dogboy won't even let me ride the stupid camel," Ivan muttered, sticking his tongue out at Sirius. 

"It's my camel, just like it's my bike, you impossible stiff."

"Oh, like it's my villa, you mean?" Ivan said, smirking. 

Sirius opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "Fine," he muttered. "Ride the bloody camel. But keep your hands off my bike."

"Isn't it wonderful how everyone's getting along?" Remus said to Patrick with a wink. 

"It warms my heart every time," Patrick said solemnly. Ivan swatted him on the chest, as Sirius snorted at Remus. 

"Dude, let's go!" Duncan strolled out of the house, wearing only fluorescent swimming trunks, clutching a large surfboard under his arm. When no one moved, he raised his surfboard, as if to make his point. 

"Duncan, the sun will set in a few hours," Ivan said, and snuggled closer to Patrick. "Besides, I have plans for tonight. Very big, hard plans."

Duncan's face fell. "But the potion is working now, dude."

"And it will still work tomorrow," Remus said, and looked at Sirius and Harry. "How does spending a day at the beach sound?"

"Great," Harry said. 

Duncan bounced towards him. "Dude, totally. I'll teach you to surf. You'll love it!"

"Yeah, sounds like a plan," Harry said. 

"Beach tomorrow." Sirius grabbed one of Remus' suitcases. "But for now, I rather agree with the stiff. Big, hard plans. Come on."

Remus picked up his other suitcase, wrapped his arm around Harry's waist, and they both followed the rest through the front doors. Inside the large, cool hallway, Patrick and Ivan turned left, to their own wing. 

"Dinner later tonight?" Patrick called over his shoulder. 

"Sure. Give us a couple of hours, though," Sirius called back. 

"A couple of hours?" Remus gasped. "I'll have you know traveling by portkey is very exhausting."

"All you have to do is lie back and present your arse, Moony. Let Harry and me do the rest."

Remus glared at Sirius, and Harry laughed, giving Sirius a playful nudge with his elbow. They walked through the corridor to their own part of the villa. Harry loved their new home. It was everything Grimmauld Place wasn't: light, modern, and spacious. 

"Go wash your face, Padfoot," Remus said as they entered their bedroom. He drew the beige curtains shut with a flick of his wand. 

"No," Harry said, and gave Sirius a devious smile. "I think he looks sexy this way."

Sirius preened, and pulled his t-shirt over his head. 

"Very well. You'll do the washing this week, Harry, and try to get those grease stains out of the sheets."

"Moony, we're about to engage in passionate love-making --"

"You sound just like Ivan," Harry mumbled. 

"-- and you're talking about the laundry?" Sirius snapped his mouth shut and glared at Harry. "What?"

"Nothing," Harry said in his most innocent voice. He kicked his boots off, and started on his jeans.

"I can't believe how eager you two are," Remus said. He seated himself on the edge of the bed to take his shoes off. "Surely you've been making good use of your time together these last two weeks."

"Moony, how can you think that of us. Harry and I haven't done a thing without you here."

Harry gave Sirius a dubious look. 

"Yes, I'm sure you two spent all that time sleeping in our bed with your hands above the sheets and cocks carefully tucked away in your underpants." Remus arched a daring eyebrow. 

"Not exactly," Harry said. "We may have kissed a few times."

"Really?" Remus reached for the buttons on his shirt. 

Sirius nodded. "And I may have sucked Harry's cock once or twice."

"Do tell." Remus shrugged off his shirt and pushed down his trousers. Then he sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard. 

"I think Moony wants to hear some dirty talk," Sirius whispered with a suggestive grin. Harry grinned back, and then offered Remus an innocent smile. 

"And Sirius may have licked my arse this one time. Pushed his tongue inside me to fuck me with it."

Remus reached a hand inside his boxers. "Go on."

"And Harry may have spread his legs wide, all eager and horny, begging me for my cock."

Briefly closing his eyes, Remus pushed his boxers down, revealing his hard cock. "God, I've missed you two."

Harry jumped on the bed, kicking his trousers off as crawled towards Remus. "Missed you, too." He pushed Remus' hand out of the way, and sucked Remus' cock inside his mouth. 

"Let me see you fuck him with your tongue, Padfoot," Remus breathed. Harry felt the bed dip behind him, and then Sirius urged his arse up. A moment later, a slick tongue pressed against Harry's entrance. 

Harry arched his back, and moaned around Remus' hard flesh. He'd missed feeling both his lovers so close. He'd missed Remus while Sirius and he'd had sex. 

"So good," Remus whispered, resting his hand on Harry's head, tracing his fingers through Harry's hair. Remus' cock twitched inside Harry's mouth, and Harry sucked harder as he rocked his hips. Sirius flicked the tip of his tongue against Harry's entrance. 

Harry stroked his hands across Remus' thighs, bobbing his head up and down, and cupped Remus' sac, caressing it gently. Remus hissed, and Harry smiled around Remus' cock. Sirius spread Harry's arse open with his thumbs, his breath hot against Harry's skin, and eased his tongue inside with teasing strokes. 

"Harry, stop," Remus said. Harry released Remus' prick and gave him a confused look. "It's strange how a teenager can make me feel like a teenager," Remus said, and tugged on his sac. 

"I'm eighteen," Harry said, frowning. 

"Yeah, you're old and wise now," Sirius said. He gave Harry's arse a playful swat. 

Harry wanted to say more, but he lost his train of thought when Remus slid down the sheets, spreading his legs around Harry. 

"Why don't you show me how wise you are," Remus said. "Fuck me, Harry."

"God, I love fucking you two like this," Sirius said, pressing himself against Harry's arse. Then he added, as an afterthought, "Well, I love fucking you two in any way, but this is definitely a favorite."

Harry bit his lip, and stroked his own cock. "Yeah. Agreed."

Sirius summoned a tube of lubricant, and after pouring some on Harry's hand, he spread Harry's arse open again. Harry wanted to squirm, feeling hot and overwhelmed, like he still did whenever he was about to fuck and be fucked. 

Raising his knees to his chest, Remus gave Harry a nod, and Harry pressed his slick fingers against Remus' hole, stroking across Remus' thigh and sac with his free hand. He didn't think he'd ever tire of the sight of Remus eager and aroused under his hands, just like he'd never tire of the feeling of Sirius preparing him and fucking him. 

"Enough. Do it." Remus' eyes narrowed, light-brown darkening as his pupils dilated. Harry licked his lips, and leaned forward, pressing his cock against Remus' tight ring of muscles. Sirius mimicked the action behind him, and as Harry pushed forward and slid his cock inside Remus, Sirius thrust his prick inside Harry. 

"Oh, fuck," Harry moaned. "Missed this. Missed this so much."

Remus cupped the back of Harry's neck, and pulled him closer. Harry crushed his lips to Remus', tugging Remus' bottom lip between his teeth. Remus released a strangled breath, and forced his tongue inside Harry's mouth. 

"You two look so fucking hot," Sirius said, gripping Harry's hips with both hands. "I'm going to give it to you hard, Harry." 

And he did. Harry groaned against Remus' lips as Sirius sped up his thrusts, cock sliding in and out in a rapid pace, and Harry had no choice but to do the same to Remus. Gasping, Remus curled his hands around Harry's shoulders, and Harry felt Remus' hard cock rub between their bodies. Harry leaned down more, trapping Remus' prick, and let Sirius fuck him so he fucked Remus. 

It was the best feeling in the world, fucking and being fucked at the same time. Harry closed his eyes, concentrating on not coming too soon, because his body was ready to give in, sweat breaking out across Harry's back as a shiver ran down his body and his sac tensed. 

"It's all right," Remus whispered. "Just give in."

And Sirius must have heard that, because he pulled back sharply, and slammed his cock inside Harry, daring him to resist that kind of pleasure. Harry tightened his fingers in the sheets, and slammed his cock inside Remus in response. He loved giving Sirius that kind of control, letting Sirius decide how he was fucking Remus. 

Remus dragged his mouth across Harry's throat, and bit down above Harry's collarbone. 

And there it was, his sac drawing up and his cock twitching inside Remus, and Harry felt his orgasm wash over him in forceful waves as he spilled his seed deep in Remus' body. 

Sirius moaned, Harry's arse contracting around his prick, and he thrust harder and harder, almost as though he wanted to punish Harry for finding his release already. And Harry hardly noticed Remus coming, semen hot and slick between their bodies, because he was still lost in that feeling of hot, sweaty pleasure of a brilliant fuck. 

"Ah, fuck, yes!" Sirius came with his cock buried deep inside Harry, and Harry slumped on top of Remus, who wrapped his arms around Harry's back. And Sirius sagged on top of Harry, pressing sloppy kisses against the back of Harry's neck. 

Harry enjoyed the feeling of a body beneath him and on top of him – god, he'd missed that so much. 

"All right?" Sirius asked, and pulled his spent prick out before rolling on his side beside them. 

"Yeah." Harry smiled down at Remus, pressed a kiss to his lips, and lay down between them. "I...er...I couldn't hold back."

Sirius chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I bet you that stiff shot sooner than you did, what with his two weeks of abstinence."

"We're not going to compare scores over dinner later, Padfoot," Remus said, propping himself on his elbow so he could glare at Sirius. 

"Besides, this was just round one. I'm guessing we'll be ready for round two soon enough." Sirius gave Remus an innocent look. "Comparing scores? I never compare scores."

Harry groaned. It was one of Sirius' favorite hobbies, to compare their sex life with Ivan's in great detail. And Ivan seemed to enjoy doing that a lot, too, especially over dinner when Snape was present. 

"Honestly." Remus stroked his hand down Harry's chest, and Harry released a contented sigh. "It's not a competition."

"I never said it was," Sirius said. "Ready for round two yet?"

Harry punched Sirius on the arm, and Sirius pulled back, grinning.

"It's good to be home again," Remus said after a moment of silence. Harry smiled at him, and leaned over to kiss Remus' throat. "London felt very...small and cramped somehow."

"It's all that outdoor air you've been getting here," Sirius said. "I couldn't imagine going back to London either, not after spending all this time here."

Harry considered that. He'd thought of Grimmauld Place as his home for a while, but he was forced to admit that he didn't want to go back there ever again. "Yeah," he finally agreed. "I like it here."

"Work been going well?" Remus asked. "No mummies?"

Chuckling, Harry shook his head. "Work's been great. We've started on a new tomb nearby. It's a real challenge."

"What are you planning now, Moony? Your book's finished and published."

Remus frowned. "I was thinking of writing another book on werewolves, but this time from a more scientific approach. And perhaps if I can convince Ivan, I could expand it with facts about vampires as well."

"Sounds interesting," Harry said. He loved it that both Remus and Sirius had found something to do that they loved. Sirius working on motorcycles, and Remus researching things and writing his findings down. 

"Yep." Sirius stretched his arms over his head, and Harry admired the way his muscles rippled under his tanned skin. Sirius looked very good with a tan. 

"Ready for round two?" Sirius teased, and Harry slapped him on his chest. 

Remus yawned. "Perhaps we can have a kip before that next round."

Sirius inhaled a shocked breath. "Wasting away good shagging time with sleep? Moony, you disappoint me."

"Actually, I like Remus' suggestion," Harry said, and pressed closer to Remus. "Sleep for an hour, then fuck for an hour, and then dinner."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Very well," he sighed, and leaned his cheek on Harry's chest. "You two win."

"It's not a competition," Remus mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"That's what you think," Sirius whispered. 

Harry snorted, and closed his eyes, fingers playing with a few strands of Sirius' long hair until he drifted off to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

"It's all in your feet, dude. Balance. Wait for that perfect wave, and then grab it by the balls."

Harry looked at Duncan as he sat on his surfboard, legs dangling over the sides in the luke-warm seawater, bobbing gently on the waves. Over the last hour, Duncan had proved to be a brilliant surfer. And Harry had learned that surfing wasn't easy at all. It didn't come naturally to him, like flying. 

"There's one. Let's go, dude!" Duncan flopped down on his board, paddling his way up the rising wave. Harry followed his example, and when the wave was about to break, he pushed himself up, trying to find his balance. Beside him, Duncan crowed with pleasure as he rode the wave with practiced ease. 

Harry tried to imitate the way Duncan held his arms and legs, and just when he thought he finally got the hang of it, he fell off his board and went under. 

"Dude, wipe out!" Duncan yelled the moment Harry surfaced again. Harry spit out a mouthful of seawater, and clutched his arms around his board. 

"I need a break," he said. "Something to drink."

"Sure, dude. Later."

Harry hoisted himself back on his board, and paddled towards the shore. He was quite happy to feel land beneath his feet again, and he trotted to where the rest where stationed on the beach, board held under his arm. 

"Have fun?" Remus asked. He sat in a beach chair, opened book propped up on his knees. 

"Yeah," Harry said, sitting down on his towel beneath the large parasol. "But it was rather difficult."

Ivan gave a snort.

"Love, get out of the sun," Patrick said, sounding exasperated. "You'll burn your skin off if you don't."

"Beer?" Sirius asked. Harry nodded, and Sirius sat up, and flipped the large cool box open. He handed Harry a chilled bottle of Heineken, and Harry took a grateful sip. 

"I haven't sunbathed in over half a millennium, love," Ivan said, lying face down on his towel, head pillowed on his arms. "I'm making up for lost time."

"At least put some sunblock on." Patrick picked up the bottle and made to pour some on Ivan's back, but Ivan swatted his hand away. 

"Just let him burn, the stubborn bastard," Sirius mumbled, and ignored Ivan's snort. Sliding his sunglasses up his nose, Sirius picked up the glossy magazine he'd been reading. 

Harry sat on his towel, leaning back on one arm, and sipped his beer and wriggled his toes in the sand. This was the life he'd always wanted. A normal life, if you ignored the fact Harry and most of his friends were Dark Creatures, doing normal things, like spending a Saturday on the beach. 

Harry didn't think he'd ever felt happier than he did at that exact moment. 

"Do you think I've got love handles?" Sirius asked. 

"What?" Harry looked at him, confused. 

"This article mentions a survey. Over fifty percent of women find love handles on a man distasteful."

"What on earth are you reading, Padfoot?"

"Some magazine." Sirius lowered his sunglasses and looked at Harry. "Well, do you?"

"My magazine!" Ivan called. 

"I'm not even sure what love handles are," Harry said. 

"No, you don't have them," Remus said, snorting. "And even if you did, I'd like to point out to you that neither Harry nor myself is in fact a female."

"True," Sirius said. "Just wondering."

Harry still wasn't sure what love handles were, and he made a mental note to take a look at that magazine later. He took a swig of his beer, and watched Duncan surf a large wave in the distance. 

"The full moon is next week," Sirius said, eyes fixed on his magazine. 

Harry glanced at him. "Yeah, I know."

"I was just thinking..." Sirius trailed off, shrugging. 

"What were you thinking?" Remus asked, and lowered his book. 

"Just that – Snape has improved the Wolfsbane Potion, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said. The transformations were less painful with the new version of the potion, though they were still far from comfortable. 

"So I was thinking, perhaps – oh, never mind."

"Padfoot, spit it out."

"Dogboy wants you to fuck him on the night of the full moon," Ivan said, propping himself up on his elbows. At the shocked silence that followed, he added, "What? It's rather obvious."

"Shut it, Ivan." Patrick turned to look at Sirius. "You thinking about becoming a werewolf?"

Sirius released a deep breath. "Sort of, yeah."

Harry stared at Sirius with wide eyes. 

"I'm not sure if that's such a good idea," Remus whispered. 

"It's that, or let the stiff turn me." Sirius narrowed his eyes. 

"I'll turn you, if you fuck me as a dog," Ivan said. Sirius glared at him. "I'll pay you, dogboy."

Sirius picked an empty beer bottle up and threw it in Ivan's direction. Ivan rolled out of its path, and offered Sirius a sweet smile. 

Harry was still staring at Sirius. "You want to live longer, don't you?"

"Yeah, I suppose I do."

"I'll fuck you next week," Harry said. He ignored Remus' gasp, because the fact that Sirius wanted to live longer, wanted to live as long as Remus and him made him prepared to do anything Sirius wanted. 

"Can I watch, at least?" Ivan asked. He sat up, and scooted closer to them. "Or tape it or something." Patrick swatted Ivan on his head. 

"You think Moony will let Blue have some fun with me?"

Remus sighed. "Perhaps he'll even want to join in." Remus gave both Harry and Sirius a smile. "I can't say I'm happy about the idea of infecting another human being. But if this is what you want, Sirius, then I'll do it."

"Thanks," Sirius whispered. "I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I want it." He looked at Patrick. "You okay with this? You're the leader of the pack, as it were."

Patrick looked thoughtful. "I understand why you want it. And as long as you're related to one of us, my wolf won't have any problems with it."

"This is so unfair," Ivan said, throwing himself down on his towel in a dramatic gesture. "The whole bloody world gets to be fucked by a large canine, except the poor, horny vampire."

Harry doubled over with laughter, and Sirius threw another empty beer bottle in Ivan's direction. "You've got that bloody dildo, stiff," Sirius said. "Use that."

Harry had given Ivan a dildo shaped like a werewolf's cock for his birthday, and Ivan had proclaimed it was the best birthday present he'd ever got. 

Ivan huffed, and threw the bottle back at Sirius. "Let's get a dog, love. Something large, like a Mastiff."

"Shut it, Ivan."

Harry hardly heard them. He looked from Remus to Sirius, and realized he'd been wrong before. The thought of having both Remus and Sirius with him for so many years to come made him feel happier than he'd ever done in his life. 

 

~~fin~~


End file.
